Come Pouring Down Unified
by satanslut
Summary: *Post NFA* In the aftermath of the final battle, Willow, Angel, Spike, and Buffy are faced with the challenge of what to do when the war is over. No comics canon used. Spike/Buffy & Willow/Angel
1. Chapter 1

Come Pouring Down Unified (Chapter One)

In the end, it wasn't nearly the battle Angel had been hoping for. The truth was that he'd needed something longer, fiercer, something that gave him more chances to kill…or be killed. A part of him hadn't wanted to save the world so much as it wanted to die trying. Because he'd lost so much; because he'd failed too greatly already; because he was angry at the oblivious and the cruel and the cold and wanted them gone.

But that wasn't the way it went down. Instead, he was standing in a rain-soaked alley, surrounded by the bodies of enemies and the glow of fading magic, expected to be grateful to a gaggle of strangers – and one who wasn't. "Willow," he said, his voice neutral-over-hate, "Nice of you to drop in."

She said nothing. Not like she hadn't expected the attitude. Heck, she couldn't see why he should feel any other way. It wasn't as if he knew the whole story – what he did know meant that what she'd done today in no way evened the score in his eyes.

Now wasn't the time for explaining, though. She turned inward, feeling the power swirling through her. Was there enough left? She hoped so.

Gunn was lying on the wet, dirty pavement, eyes open, breathing shallow, his blood black in the oily puddles. Spike knelt beside him, only the tic in his jaw giving away how much he didn't want to lose another friend and how helpless he felt knowing that he was about to do just that. Not like turning the man was an option – Angel would stake him if he tried.

Spike glared as Willow suddenly knelt beside him, reaching out and putting her hand on Gunn's chest. For a moment he thought about snatching it away, telling her that her mojo was too little, too late. But this was Gunn, a man whose life meant something to him, and Spike wasn't that bloody stupid – besides, she'd already whipped out her bag of tricks in battle and he'd done fuck all to stop her then. Let her save Gunn. Then he could tell her to drop dead and go straight to Hell...serve her right for abandoning Fred.

And didn't seeing Illyria standing off to the side, head cocked and eyes blank, just bring it all home?

"It's not too late," Willow said softly, her voice a prayer. She closed her eyes and mumbled a few words, drawing on what was left of her power, feeling flesh knit together and life return, feeling herself grow weary. She stopped, though Gunn was still unconscious. There was more she had to take care of and she couldn't do it if she drained herself completely. "He needs some rest," she addressed Angel and Spike as she stood up without looking at either of them, "but he should be good as new in a few days."

Twenty young Slayers stood around, most of them girls Willow didn't know by name, waiting to be told what to do. Right now, Willow wished she had the strength to teleport them all back to Cleveland. She wasn't a general. Commanding an army, especially after the battle was over, was not exactly her forté. It sure didn't help that the creature who'd taken over Fred's body was staring at her.

"You are powerful," Illyria said, and the not-Fredness of her chilled the blood in Willow's veins.

It was obvious that Willow was upset by Illyria. Was it wrong of Angel to hope she felt that way forever? Because it was… Maybe not exactly her fault, but if anyone could have done something to stop it, it was Willow, and Willow hadn't even had the decency to refuse them herself when they'd asked for her help, instead letting Giles make her excuses for her.

Of all the people he'd known and lost in his centuries of unlife, he felt the loss of Fred most keenly. Her suffering, the fact that none of what she endured was remotely deserved, Illyria's presence serving as a grotesque, daily reminder…

"I know it doesn't help much – or at all, I guess – but I'm sorry." Willow's words may have been spoken softly, but they still stung like a slap in the face.

"You're right," Spike said, beating Angel in the race to give voice to the bitterness they shared, "It doesn't help one damn bit."

"I didn't know," she said. "Not until…," she looked over at Illyria, "not until it was too late."

"Too busy partying in the astral plane?" Angel snapped.

Willow had known that was coming. "I was never in the astral plane."

"Colour me shocked," Spike shot back. The look Angel gave him was the closest thing to approval he'd ever gotten from him. Guess neither one of them had bought that lame excuse. "Just for the ducks of it, where the hell were you really? Standing next to ol' Rupes? Feedin' 'im the lines?"

"Hey! She was in Africa. With me. Helping out with a new Slayer." Xander's voice startled her and Willow jumped.

"Xander," she chided him. "I thought you were going to wait until…"

"Yeah, well, I got impatient. Decided to do some recon. It's not like I ever doubted you were gonna win this thing." His smile was the second best thing that had happened to her all day.

"Nice to see your timing hasn't changed," Angel said. He wasn't exactly happy to see the boy.

"And hello to you, too, Deadboy."

She'd wanted to have a chance to talk to Spike and Angel, to explain what had happened, but it didn't look like she was going to get it. The girls were getting restless, Xander was here…Willow turned inward again, using her re-activated link with Buffy to tell her that the battle was over – the good guys had won.

Illyria was staring at Willow strangely, which made Angel realize something was going on, even if all it looked like was Willow closing her eyes and breathing rhythmically. "What are you doing?" he asked sharply.

Willow started, nearly jumping backwards. "I was just telling the others that everything was okay."

"The others?"

Angel's manner put her on the defensive. All these years and all the power she now had and she could still be cowed by him. "There's sort of a back-up team. You know, in case things didn't exactly go our way."

"And who would that be?" Spike scoffed. "Xander and Andrew?"

"Not unless Andrew's suddenly a hot chick with super powers."

Faith. She was here. Why couldn't it have been her fighting alongside them? At least she was a friend, although if she was taking orders from Willow, there might be some doubt about that.

Angel turned and saw her…and she wasn't alone.

"Hey," Buffy's tone and manner were casual, ostentatiously so – which she hoped came off as genuine because holy god was this awkward. It would have been so much easier if she'd been able to come in all sword-brandishing and ready for battle. Handling stuff as the Slayer always seemed to go her way. As a woman? That was a completely different story. She shuddered at the memory of the Immortal. Like she'd really needed a second Parker.

Spike's eyes narrowed as he saw his ex-lover approach. She had nerve, he'd give her that. At least she didn't reek of that bastard Immortal. "You goin' soft?" he asked, ignoring Faith. "Never figured you for one to wait 'til the war was over to come charging in."

"As awesome as the insults and sexual tension are," Faith interjected as she briskly walked over and joined the group, pulling Gunn up the moment she got there, "I think we better get Gunn somewhere where he can recuperate, don't you?"

"Where are the other Slayers?" Willow asked.

"Told 'em to go back to the motel," Faith grunted as she slung Gunn's arm over her shoulder and began to drag him towards the mouth of the alley. "You know, I may be a Slayer, but that doesn't mean I couldn't use some help."

Much to Spike's shock, Xander immediately took Gunn's other side. "We'll take him back to the motel," he said. "It's safe there."

Illyria suddenly spoke. "I will go with him."

Angel was going to argue – wanted to argue – but he knew it would be both bitter and counterproductive. He might be angry at Willow, but she had just saved Gunn's life. He had to trust that she and Faith and Buffy would take good care of him. And as much as Illyria was a hated interloper in Fred's body, he knew she'd guard Gunn, too. It wasn't as if Angel had a better place to take him than a motel packed with Slayers. If any demons were left, they'd be a lot more likely to attack the Hyperion.

Funny how he'd never thought about after…never thought there'd _be _an after. He caught Willow's eye and an eerie fellow feeling washed over him. He'd heard from Spike how she tried to end the world when her lover was murdered. Of course, this meant that nothing made sense at all now. She knew what loss was – real loss. Why the hell hadn't she been there for Fred?

While he was lost in thought, three people and one god-king left the alley.

Spike would have gone with them, but Buffy stayed behind and… Oh hell, he wanted to talk to her. Perfectly normal to wonder how an ex was getting on, wasn't it?

"How are you paying for all those motel rooms?" he asked. As ice breakers went, he thought it was pretty good.

"Giles's credit card," Buffy replied. "After what he did…," there was a brief flash of pain in her eyes as her voice hitched, "We kinda figured it would be only be fair for him to help fund the battle and all."

"What are we supposed to do now?" one of the Slayers still hanging back at the mouth of the alley whined.

Buffy rolled her eyes as Willow shrugged sheepishly. She loved Willow dearly, but now she understood why she had been reluctant to lead a mission. Her best friend wasn't really cut out for giving orders. "Just go back to the motel, okay?" The authority in her voice belied the casual words.

There was much groaning, but the girls turned and began the walk to the local Best Western. Why they were so grouchy escaped her. Even if Faith hadn't taken the only car, it was way too small for twenty girls. Besides, they were Slayers – how hard was a mile walk? Buffy knew Willow's power too well to think they were worn out from battle. They'd probably just stood around and watched while Willow worked her mojo. Sheesh. Slayers today were nothing like the ones in her…

Oh god. She was one of _those _people now – old people. Sitting around complaining about these kids today and their loud music and nose rings – not that she thought nose rings were bad, except for that huge one that Veronica wore that looked like the one on the bull in the Bugs Bunny cartoon – and… Okay, why was Spike staring at her?

"And then there were four." Was it just Spike or had things become suddenly rather awkward?

Angel thought about what Buffy had said about Giles and what Xander said about Africa while his eyes stayed fixed on Willow. Maybe he'd been wrong about her; maybe she hadn't refused to help Fred after all. They needed to talk. "Why don't we head inside?" he said, tilting his head towards the building.

"Okay," Willow said. It was the first word he'd heard from her in what seemed like an eternity. She and Spike and Buffy followed him around the corner and into the hotel.

It didn't have the feeling of home that it once had, but the Hyperion was his and he supposed it was as good a place as any for a talk. With Gunn safe elsewhere, if there were demons left who wanted to wage another battle, they were welcome to bring it on.

"I'm sorry," Willow said again. It wasn't as if it was something she could say too many times. She really was sorry and she always would be. She knew what the takeover of Fred's body had done to her...the excruciating pain she must have felt. It was impossible not to hate Giles for letting his hatred of Angel condemn Fred to… If ever the phrase 'a fate worse than death' was appropriate, it sure was when it came to that. "I know that's not good enough, but…"

"You didn't know." It was a statement, not a question, and the tension in Angel's face told her just how much it cost him to let go of even a little bit of the anger he felt towards her. She understood that. Sometimes anger was the only thing that kept you going, the only reason you got out of bed. If you didn't have that…

"I wish I had. I would have come. I would have done…anything I could." Memories of a cute girl with a delightful accent washed over Willow…she'd flirted with Fred. There was something about her that had reminded her of Tara – another life the universe had refused to allow her to save. Why were her powers not allowed to do good where she most wanted?

"She would have, Angel," Buffy chimed in. "When she found out – when we all found out…"

"I'd like to talk to Willow alone."

It was funny – before they'd arrived in Los Angeles, what had worried Buffy most about dealing with Angel and Spike was their reaction to having seen her with the Immortal and her fear of having to admit that he'd been the biggest mistake of her life. Now, though… Now was a big reality check. Everything hit her the moment the plane had landed – and even more so when she'd had to hand over the role of hero to Willow for the good of mankind.

A world full of Slayers and the knowledge that it was Willow alone who could have saved Fred – Willow who was needed most to win the battle with the Black Thorn… It was hard not to feel small and futile and not very special anymore. She wondered how Spike saw her now…and Angel, too (right?). But then she looked over at Willow, who looked tired and careworn and not very mighty at all. She looked a lot like the way she used to after an all night research session way back in what Buffy was now disturbingly prone to think of as the good old days. It made Buffy realize that she had friends, friends who looked up to her and still saw her as The Chosen One. She didn't know how she would cope if she lost Willow or Xander. Was it as painful as that for Angel and Spike? Losing Cordelia? Losing Fred?

Speaking of losing good friends, where was Wesley? She would have to ask Spike when they… "We'll just go…"

"To the office," Spike finished. He led Buffy towards that very room.

Willow watched as Buffy and Spike disappeared into another room. She had hoped to talk to Angel and Spike together, but if this was what Angel wanted, then yeah, she'd do it this way.

It occurred to her that it might be hurting him _more _to be assured that help would have been there if she'd only known, but then again, Angel also deserved to know that he had friends, friends who wouldn't fail him ever again. "I guess you have stuff you want to ask me." She could suddenly feel the magical drain and the loss of adrenaline combining into an imminent crash. Hopefully, she'd make it through this talk.

Angel's eyes had never left her and he decided to start with a summary of what he already had pieced together. Willow was looking shaky. "You were with Xander in Africa when I called Giles. He lied to me and you weren't told what happened to Fred. That about sum it up?"

"Yeah. It does. I wish… But there was a new Slayer, Louama…she had dormant magical powers and it turned out they were activated by becoming a Slayer. She got pretty freaked out what with all the different kinds of power she was dealing with and Xander figured maybe I could help her." She paused for a moment, stopping herself before she interjected some personal details into the conversation. Angel wouldn't care about her love life, or the collapse of it to be more precise. "In the end, there wasn't anything I could do to help her balance both sides. We ended up getting the help of the Coven and her magic was bound, but when we talked to them…that's how we found out about Fred."

"We?" Angel wasn't sure why he asked that.

"Me and Xander. And of course, then we called Giles, and he just…" Willow stopped herself before quoting her one-time mentor. The anguish was still fresh and what caused it did not need to be shared. "It doesn't really matter what he said. But that's when we heard about what was happening here with the Black Thorn and I called Buffy and…" Again she decided to keep the details to herself. There were things Angel didn't need to hear. "Anyway, she stole Giles's credit card and called Faith in Cleveland and we gathered all the Slayers who were loyal to Xander and Faith and Buffy had this really brilliant idea to split into teams just in case, so that's what we did and...well, you kinda know the rest." She took a breath as she sat on a dusty couch. "I really wish... I liked Fred a lot, Angel. I mean, I know I didn't know her very well, but… I would have saved her. I wish I could have saved her." She began to cry. She was too tired to keep her emotions in check anymore.

Angel stood for a moment, processing everything he'd been told…and so much he knew he hadn't. There was only one villain left, it seemed, and now Rupert Giles alone bore the brunt of Angel's hatred. There would be time for revenge later, however. He had much to mourn – not just Fred. Wesley was dead, his son was lost to him (again), as was Lorne… Cordelia…and there was something else, an emptiness he couldn't quite understand yet, a place where something had once been, though he couldn't remember what right now. Nothing made sense, not even the fact that they'd saved the world.

Willow wasn't the only one worn down by the day. Angel sat down beside her. Ten minutes ago, he would rather have greeted the sunrise in a vat of holy water than touch her in anything but anger, but now? Now he looked into those tear-filled eyes and put an arm around her, drawing her head down to his shoulder. "I know you would have helped her," he said softly.

The dam broke and the tears turned to sobs. Angel let her pour out her sorrow onto his rain-damp shirt until she was overcome by her fatigue and fell asleep beside him. He stayed there, lost in thought, and somehow forgetting that there was anyone else in the hotel at all.

Tbc…


	2. Chapter 2

Come Pouring Down Unified (Chapter Two)

Buffy was sort of accustomed to being 'Witty Comment Girl' but right now she just couldn't think of one. Neither could Spike, it seemed, because he was just standing there looking at her with an annoyingly blank expression while her palms got all sweaty. Gosh was she nervous. Was she a coward for suddenly wishing she'd gone back to the motel with Faith and Gunn and Xander and that Smurf chick? "So," she said, even as she realized it wasn't the snazziest icebreaker ever. Sue her – even if she'd actually read The Slayer Handbook, she was pretty sure it didn't cover things like the etiquette of talking to your newly re-undead vampire ex-lover who'd recently seen you gallivanting around Italy with an oily creep who called himself The Immortal.

"So," Spike parroted back. He had to admit he was enjoying Buffy's obvious discomfort. It wasn't like he was bitter or anything – after all, they hadn't been in a relationship in a long… Well, to be honest, he guessed they'd _never _been in a relationship, but it had felt like one, at least to him.

Yeah, all right, he was bitter. He was also wondering about The Immortal. Granted, he knew the bastard wouldn't lift a finger to help him and Angel – even to save the bloody world – but had he come to Los Angeles with Buffy? Spike didn't recall anyone mentioning him, but that didn't mean that wretch wasn't ensconced at the Ritz Carlton waiting for a victory shag.

Seeing her…it was all back and then some, damn her. This wasn't the first time he wondered who the hell he needed to dismember for making him fall in love with Buffy. Soul or no, he'd like to rip out their entrails. Angel was dealing with things better than he was and that only added to the horror of it all.

He decided to smirk, act like he didn't care. Buffy had broken so much of his heart – he needed what he had left.

Great. Spike was smirking at her. Oh god. She didn't still smell like The Immortal, did she? Because she'd showered a lot – including the ten times the day after she'd given in and slept with him only to wake up to what amounted to a "Thanks for the pussy" note on her nightstand. The jerk hadn't even had the balls to tell her to her face that she had been nothing but another punch on the score card he kept for some ridiculous rivalry he had going on with Spike and Angel.

She shuddered at the memory of snuggling with him on the couch…in front of Andrew, no less.

Spike was still smirking and not saying a word. He probably knew. In fact, The Immortal had probably sent him a video or something. What should she say? "You look… good. I mean for coming back from…wherever you were and all and just fighting a whole bunch of demons." Obviously, _she_ had just died - again - and come back as a complete idiot.

As much as he had just told himself he was enjoying Buffy's discomfort and wanted to augment it, Spike proved himself to be love's worthless bitch once again. "You, too," he said. He waited, but Buffy didn't say another word. It was impossible to tell what she was thinking.

Okay, all of this waiting for the other shoe to drop nonsense was driving him barmy. He held tight to the fragment of his heart that wasn't all jagged-edged and useless and said, "So where's the new boyfriend? Back at the hotel?"

Was Spike taunting her? He didn't seem like he was, but then again, she'd never been that good at reading him. She should have been. She owed him that – that and more. So maybe she needed to just let go of her pride and at least let Spike have her humiliation. "The Immortal? He's not my boyfriend. Never was, in fact. Turns out he just wanted to…you know…with someone who used to be with you…and Angel." She blushed as she kept her eye on Spike's face, waiting for a reaction.

The anger hit him like a body blow. If The Immortal had been here right now, he'd be testing just how truly immortal that bastard really was. How dare he treat Buffy like that! He'd been given a chance with a girl like no other in all the world – and that wasn't because she was a Slayer. There were Slayers everywhere these days – common as pigeons. But there was only one Buffy Summers. One shining, golden girl. And The Immortal had treated her like some worthless whore. That creature deserved to be tortured until he could no longer think or feel anything but a longing for death.

The intensity of Spike's feelings terrified him – so much so that he did what he always did when his emotions made him vulnerable and said something cold and cruel. "So the bloke didn't fancy the taste of cookie dough, eh?"

Buffy looked shocked, almost comically so, before she spluttered out, "Angel told you about that?"

Putting a tighter lid than ever on his emotions, Spike smirked again and said, "You know how dull those long trans-Atlantic flights can get. Talking's as good a way as any to pass the time."

"I can't believe Angel told you…" She looked deeply ashamed and well she should.

Having tamped down his feelings about The Immortal's treatment of her, Spike thought only of that pathetic excuse for a farewell speech Buffy had offered the Poof . "Not finished baking?" He allowed himself to chuckle a bit.

All right, the humiliation had gone on long enough. "Hey! You're taking the whole thing out of context." That was right, right? Context? Where was Willow when she really needed her?

"There's no context that's gonna make that one fly, pet. Cookie dough? You compared yourself to bleedin' cookie dough?" Spike's voice got higher and he began to laugh. Suddenly, Buffy sort of saw his point.

Oh God. It really _was_ ridiculous, wasn't it? Still, she was compelled to defend herself. "Look, it's not like I was trying to be wise or profound." Okay, yes, she had been, but she didn't need to admit that. "You try coming up with a good metaphor out of thin air. It's not like I'm on a TV show and have a script writer or anything. I just said the first thing that came to mind."

But Spike kept on laughing. Soon, as much as she didn't want to, Buffy joined him. She was giggling so much she almost couldn't breathe. Fighting hard to get herself under control, she choked out, "We need to keep it down. Willow and Angel are talking out there."

Willow's breathing was even and she didn't seem to be having any nightmares. How strange it still was for Angel to be glad of that, but he was.

She'd sleep even better, though, if she wasn't sitting up with her head against his shoulder, so he decided to take her upstairs. The bedrooms were probably dusty, but she would be more comfortable. Besides, she was already in need of a shower after the battle. A little dust wasn't going to be a problem.

Gathering her gently into his arms, Angel carried her up the staircase. She didn't snore, he noticed, or at least not right now. Buffy snored. He remembered that – little, soft, snuffling sounds. The memory reminded him that she was here – in the office – with Spike. He waited for that familiar jealousy, but… There was a small twinge, but it was more the memory of a feeling than the feeling itself. Odd. He wasn't going to go digging around within his psyche for the reason, however. He had other things to think about besides whether Buffy was done baking and, if she was, who she wanted to share her cookies with.

Wesley was dead. Fred was dead. Cordelia was dead. Lorne was gone. Connor was gone. Nina… She was gone, too, though he supposed it didn't have to stay that way if he didn't want it to be so.

And Angel had signed away his Shanshu.

Pushing open the door to his old room, Angel made sure not to disturb Willow with any sudden movements. He looked down at her face to make sure he hadn't awakened her, but no, she was still sleeping peacefully. He caught the shadow of a smile on her lips and he was glad of it. Happy dreams. Someone should have them.

He laid her down on the bed and smiled himself at the picture she made; she looked like a little girl dreaming of Christmas – no, Hanukkah. Willow was Jewish.

He turned to leave and he heard her mumble a word sleepily. "Tara."

Angel stopped for a moment, wondering why the name… It was the name of Willow's lover – the one who'd been murdered. The one whose death had made her try to end the world. If only Willow weren't dreaming at all. It would hurt her so much to wake up alone.

For reasons he couldn't begin to understand, he decided not to leave the room after all. Instead he went to the other side of the bed and lay down beside her. It wouldn't be the same at all as seeing the face of her love when she awoke, but at least he was someone.

"Where'd they go?" Buffy asked, looking around the really depressing lobby. Angel really should have updated this place. She'd have thought Cordelia would have forced him to.

"Dunno," Spike answered. He'd wondered about the silence even back in the office but he'd been too preoccupied with what was going on between him and Buffy to pay much mind to it. What a rollercoaster he'd been on in the past few minutes. "Red looked a bit done in. Maybe she went upstairs to take a nap. The magic usually wears her out, doesn't it?"

"She would have helped, you know," Buffy said, wanting to make sure Spike knew the truth. "If Giles had told her…" Her voice trailed off. The pain of Giles's betrayal was still so fresh.

Guess Spike could tell. "I know," he said. "Thinking about it now… Yeah, can't see Red leavin' anyone in the lurch like that. It was just…"

"She had a crush on Fred," Buffy blurted out. "I mean, nothing serious, but even before… you know, she told me she thought Fred was cute and she sort of wished…"

The sound of his own short bark of a laugh startled even Spike. "Did she?" He thought about it for a moment. "I can see why. I wish you could have known her. She was…" His voice hitched and he stopped for moment before he finished. "Special. Fred was special." There was so much more to say about the girl, but he just couldn't. Maybe another day – a day when he had something to drink nearby. Oh yeah, her death still hurt like holy water in an open wound.

It was a good thing that at least Blue wasn't around. Sometimes he could separate her from what she always dismissively called "the shell" – as if Fred's body weren't once the wrapping paper on a gift that creature could never begin to equal – but he was glad he didn't have to do it right now.

"I wish I could have known her, too." Had Spike been in love with Fred? The moment she thought it, Buffy hated herself for being jealous of a dead girl. Besides, it wasn't as if Spike didn't have the right to move on. She'd never even tried to call him after she found out he was alive – well, undead again. "I really am sorry." She wasn't sure what she was apologizing for specifically at this point. Probably everything.

The look in her eyes – dammit, he was getting hopeful again. Love's bitch howling at the moon. Next thing you know, he'd be sharing table scraps with Fido. "Thanks for showing up today," he said.

Buffy coloured and Spike hoped he hadn't sounded sarcastic. He hadn't meant it that way. "I know I didn't do much," she said.

"Nonsense. You were right there ready to step in if Willow's mojo hadn't carried the day." He stared into her eyes, willing her to see what was in his. "It takes character to stand back. To know when you shouldn't be the first one into battle. 'Sides, not like we don't all know whose idea the whole plan was. It had 'Buffy Summers' stamped all over it." He took the risk and said the rest. "You were still the hero. You always will be."

There were tears in Buffy's eyes now. It amazed her that he knew just what to say. This wasn't the first time, either. How in the heck did they always get it so wrong when there was…_this_?

"We should probably go look for Angel and Willow," Spike said, ending the moment.

"Yeah." She stifled her surprise when he took her hand to lead her to the stairs. It felt...nice. She got lost in the feel of his hand against hers. It brought memories of… Whoa. Down, girl. This wasn't the time or the place for that.

Setting a rather meandering pace, not wanting to have to let go of her hand, Spike took Buffy to the door of a suite. He figured it had to have been Angel's old room. All that feigned self-sacrifice had never fooled Spike; he well-remembered Angel's fondness for luxury. But he was surprised by what he saw when he looked in the half-open door. By the look on her face, so was Buffy.

Willow and Angel were sleeping – together. Well, not in any interesting way, but still… Yeah, there they were. He kept one eye on Buffy to gauge her reaction, looking for the flare of jealousy that might break his heart.

Buffy stared at the sleeping pair. She was surprised by her own reaction – relief at seeing that Angel had obviously forgiven her best friend and that Willow was resting safe and sound after having spent herself using so much magic. Not so much as a single spark of jealousy.

That wasn't just because of Willow's whole 'gay now' thing, either. Sure, there was Tara and then Kennedy, but Buffy remembered there'd also been Oz and Xander. And it wasn't like she hadn't figured out why Kennedy and Willow had split up – or at least she thought she had. One of these days Willow would break down and tell her, right?

How weird was it that Willow was who she was thinking about right now and not Angel? Funny thing about baking – you couldn't always be sure what would come out of the oven. And you know? She really needed a better metaphor.

"Looks like they have the right idea," Spike said softly as he drew Buffy back into the hall with him and shut the door. "Could use a spot of that myself."

"Are you asking me to sleep with you?" Buffy cringed the moment the words left her mouth. She had totally not meant to say anything dirty.

Spike chuckled at the pained look on her face, but he kept his reply serious. "I think that's what got us into trouble to begin with, don't you? Not that I regret it – I don't regret a bit of it. But… But we have a lot to talk about and I need some rest. You're welcome to join me for a nap or head back to the motel or even wander around this decrepit old place if you like. 'S up to you."

"I think I'll take that nap with you. Better enjoy the silence while I can. It's a good thing we rented out the whole motel, believe me. You would not believe all the noise those Slayers make."

"I remember a house full of them," Spike chuckled with forced mirth. Those hadn't been the best days. "Now let's see if there's another bed in this place fit to lie on."

Buffy let him lead her down the hall as they looked for the least dusty room in which to rest. Not once did he let go of her hand.

Tbc…


	3. Chapter 3

Come Pouring Down Unified (Chapter Three)

Angel was startled from sleep by the sudden movement and rapid breathing of the girl next to him.

"Willow. It's okay."

She was sitting up, looking around wildly, obviously taken aback by her surroundings, but she turned to him now and seemed calmed by the sound of his voice. "Angel? I'm sorry. I was just…"

"You were dreaming about Tara," he said softly, taking her arm and pulling her back down.

"How did you…?"

"You said her name."

There were tears in her eyes as she stared at the ceiling and Angel propped himself up on his side to talk to her. "I know how much it must hurt to wake up and not have her here."

"I've never stopped dreaming about her, you know? I mean, I sort of thought that after awhile…being with Kennedy and all…but…" No, not even when she thought she _had_ let go that one terrible day. "I don't think I've ever said her name out loud before, though. Pretty sure Kennedy would have told me if I had." Or just packed up and left. Her ex-lover had turned out to be more of a walk-out than a talk-out kind of person. Just once, Willow wished that she could be the one who said when things were over.

"Kennedy, that's your girlfriend, right? Spike mentioned once that…"

"Ex-girlfriend," Willow interrupted. "We kinda broke up about a month ago. Well, not kinda, and not so much with the 'we'. She left me." She prayed to the goddess that Angel wouldn't ask why. It was really not something she wanted to explain right now, especially what with his history with… "She was a Slayer," Willow said as a distraction.

"Oh." Angel didn't really know what to say to that. He wondered if that was the reason they broke up, though he couldn't understand why it would be. He wanted to ask, but to his own surprise, what he wound up asking instead was, "Why did you get involved with her in the first place?"

"You mean so soon after Tara?" Willow asked, her eyes full of defenses and accusations.

"No. I didn't mean that at all. I meant…" What _had _he meant? "It's just… You were always the intellectual. Slayers are more about…" Oh great, if he finished that sentence, it would sound like he was insulting his own ex-lover…who also happened to be Willow's best friend. "I just mean…"

Willow chuckled softly. "I wasn't in love with her. I didn't even want to be in love with her. I was just… lonely. Nobody trusted me after Tara died and nobody wanted to hear about…" She stopped. Self-pity was all wrong and she knew it. "Anyway, there was Kennedy and she was pretty aggressive with the pursuing and… It was flattering, you know? Having someone want you like that? It sort of made me feel less lonely. And hey – the pierced tongue wasn't so bad either."

Angel's eyes shot wide for a moment and Willow giggled. "I'm a grown woman, Angel. I have…needs and stuff." Angel raised an eyebrow and nodded, but this time his expression wasn't one of disbelief but… "You, too?" Willow asked. "But what about the curse?"

"Sex isn't perfect happiness." Willow had to agree with that. "And I have needs, too."

Willow pulled herself into a sitting position and Angel did likewise. "Who was she? Or he? I mean, I don't want to assume anything, 'cause I know what that's like and…"

Angel chuckled. "She. Her name was Nina. She was a werewolf."

Suddenly, something struck her and Willow began giggling again. "What's so funny?" Angel asked.

"It's just..." She got her mirth under control and then continued. "Do you realize we've both been with a Slayer and a werewolf?"

Okay, now that she mentioned it…there was something funny about that. How odd to realize they had that in common. Angel sat for a moment, losing himself in thought. Unusual sexual partners weren't all they had in common. He spoke softly. "Yeah, and we've both tried to end the world."

Their eyes met and for some reason Angel erupted into laughter. So did Willow. Maybe it wouldn't seem funny to anyone else, but right now, right here… Yeah, it was funny. Maybe funnier than anything had ever been.

He watched as laughter lit up Willow's face and he had the oddest feeling of regret, though why he felt it he had no idea. He let it go. One more thing he wasn't interested in trying to figure out.

"No offense," she said after a moment. "It's just that I never thought we were all that alike, but now…yeah."

"No offense taken," he replied. "It's…"

"Strange?" She dimpled as she asked the question.

"You could say that," he agreed. Without thinking, he finally asked what he'd wanted to earlier. "What happened? I mean with you and Kennedy?"

Willow's smile ebbed. Great. She'd been dodging this question from everyone. But at least it would probably be easier to explain it all to Angel. "You mean why did she break up with me?" Angel nodded. "Xander."

She stifled a laugh as Angel's eyebrows rose halfway to his hairline. "Not like that…I mean not then…" Angel's eyebrows shot up even farther and she hastened to explain. "Look, I need to tell this chronologically." Taking a deep breath, she waited for his eyebrows to head back down where they belonged before continuing. "Kennedy and I were doing just fine, at least I thought we were, and then one day Xander called and asked me to help with that new Slayer, Louama, the one who had…"

"The problem with magic."

"Yeah, you remember. Cool. Well, anyway – I said sure. I mean, helping people with magic problems is kind of a natural thing for me to do after…" She paused. "So I figured I'd go, help, and then come back. Just like the other times."

"Other times?"

Willow gave an exasperated sigh and answered. "Yeah. Xander had asked me to come to Africa a couple of times. You know, to set up protective wards or give a pep talk to some new girls. But this time… Kennedy, she… She got weird. I mean, I had thought in the beginning that being honest with her, telling her about Oz and Xander… that I'd done the right thing. But when Xander called the last time…she pulled away from me. I told her I would just be gone for a week or so at most. It wasn't like I hadn't done it before. But she got all strange and cold and distant. And she said she'd had fun, but now that I was going off to Africa again, it was a good time for us to just go our separate ways. She wouldn't even talk to me or tell me what she was thinking or let me explain. The last thing she told me was to say hi to my boyfriend for her. Then she was gone." The memory still hurt and she closed her eyes against the tears. Even someone you didn't love could hurt you

Angel reached over and put his hand on Willow's knee. "I'm sorry." But there was something else Willow had said and he got the impression the story wasn't over. "What did you mean by 'not then'?"

Willow sighed and looked away. "Me and my big mouth."

Now Angel was really putting two and two together, but there was no possibility that it added up to what he thought it did, was there? "So… you? And…Xander?"

"I know you guys don't like each other, but Xander's a wonderful man. He is. And anyway, no, there is no me and Xander. There just almost was."

"Almost?"

"Yeah, almost. The night after we had to bind Louama's magic. We were just sitting together, feeling sad, and we kissed. It was… It was me and Xander, you know? We have a lot of history. For a moment I thought maybe he was what I wanted."

Angel half expected himself to at least think something sarcastic, but instead he felt the sadness and the emptiness that Willow had been feeling then – the need for a connection to something deep and meaningful. He stayed still and quiet, waiting for her to continue. When she didn't, he asked softly. "So why didn't you…?"

Willow chuckled ruefully. "Timing. That's always the way it is with us. If we'd found each other back in Sunnydale after… Or even right after the end… But now? Now Xander has Africa and it's just not the place for me. Besides, we're too good at being friends." She paused and Angel could feel the weight of her heartache before she continued. "At least now we finally know that's what we were always supposed to be."

There was the shine of what were probably tears in Willow's eyes and Angel drew her head down to his shoulder and put his arm around her. "I understand," he said, and he really thought that he did. He felt for her. He knew that any kind of love, even a friend's, had to be more desirable than just good sex and companionship. No wonder Willow had thought… It made him realize why he had no intention of finding Nina.

"I haven't told Buffy yet." Willow said after a minute or two. "I mean, she knows Kennedy and I are kaput, but not the Xander stuff."

"Why not?"

She guessed that was a good question if you hadn't been in Sunnydale when she'd met Tara.

"Because I – and it's my fault, because I'm the one who was so gung-ho about calling myself gay and all – but I don't want to have to explain why it's not that simple anymore. Buffy likes labels and I thought I did, too. I mean, hey, who doesn't like making things simple and clear and having neat, tidy boundaries? Okay, maybe other people don't, but…" She closed her eyes tightly for a few seconds, frustrated by her own incoherence. "What it comes down to is: labels? Labels are great for ketchup bottles, but not so much for people – especially not me. And I don't want to deal with the questions and the weirdness that'll happen when I try to tell Buffy that I'm not… I'm not a label girl." And it was true. She didn't want to call herself anything – not straight, not gay, not bi – she just wanted to love who she loved and not worry about defining it.

Angel didn't know what to tell her, though he once again found they had something in common – the way they didn't want to define themselves sexually. That was something Willow had seemed to sense instinctively when she'd asked if his sexual partner was a woman or a man. Honestly, it could have been either by his own inclinations. He just found it easier to focus on women. It seemed like the humans he knew had a hard enough time accepting him as a demon without adding anything else to the mix. Yet another reason he understood what Willow was going through.

"You don't have to call yourself anything," he said. "And I won't tell Buffy what you've told me."

Willow smiled. She was glad he'd asked her the hard questions after all.

It seemed eerie to Buffy, watching Spike, not seeing his chest rise and fall. Had it always been eerie?

Had she ever just sat quietly and watched him sleep?

She put her hands over her ears trying to drown out her thoughts. Thinking. Augh. How did Willow stand it? How did Angel? All the brooding and the introspection and the analyzing everything to death until your brain exploded into thousands of pieces and…

"Penny for 'em," Spike said softly and Buffy almost jumped out of her skin. He apologized. "Didn't mean to scare ya."

"No, it's okay. I was just…"

"Thinking. Yeah. Gathered that." He smirked, but there was nothing mean about it and Buffy relaxed.

"Did I wake you up?"

"No," he lied. What they were sharing now…it was fragile and he didn't want to make her uncomfortable. "I've never needed much rest."

"Liar." Guess there was no fooling her – not now, anyway.

"I can sleep later. You're here now." That was as honest as he'd ever been if she could just hear the words beneath the words.

"I am."

Spike sat up and took Buffy's hand. Fatigue was stripping his defenses, making him hopeful, or delusional, and something about the soft look in her eyes made him brave – or maybe stupid. "I think we should probably…"

But before he could say anything more, Buffy interrupted him. "You know, Willow told me something really beautiful once."

Huh? What the hell did Willow have to do with anything?

"She told me that, when she and Tara got back together, Tara gave her this whole speech about all the things you need to do to build trust again and then, at the end of it, she said they should skip it and they should just be kissing right now."

Spike chuckled. He got the point. But it wasn't that easy. Not for them. "I get it, luv. But I think our biggest problem was that we _always_ skipped everything but…kissing. And anyway, aren't you birds always on about how blokes never wanna talk about their feelings? I would've thought…"

"Hey! Just because I watch the occasional chick flick, it doesn't mean I want to star in one."

Spike laughed again. "C'mere," he said, and she lay down with her head in his lap, relaxing into the feeling of his hand stroking her hair. "It's not that I don't want to…kiss you. But we both know that this time – if you really want a this time – if it's gonna work, it's gotta be different. We both have to be sure. And yeah, this time we're gonna have to talk. I promise not to get too 'chick flick' on ya, but I don't want…" He figured they both knew what he was thinking about – and what he couldn't bring himself to say.

Buffy knew exactly what Spike's unfinished sentence was about, but she deliberately misunderstood him. Mostly because it gave her the chance to bring up something she knew she'd lose the nerve to say if she had five seconds to think about it. "This isn't about Angel, you know. I'm not jealous or anything."

It was a good thing Spike had the kind of poker face that had won him more kittens than you'd find at an animal shelter. The last thing he wanted was to admit just how relieved he was by those words – and by the sincerity he could hear behind them. "Didn't think you were. Not like there's any reason to be, what with his bedmate batting for the other team."

Buffy snorted…and regretted her reaction almost immediately. Spike stopped stroking her hair and she could almost feel the rise of one silken eyebrow. She stayed very still and tried to think innocent thoughts. That would fix this, right? Because, really, Willow's sex life wasn't any of Spike's business.

"What did that noise mean?" Spike asked. "And don't tell me it didn't mean anything, because we both know it did."

Curses, foiled again. Buffy sat up. "Okay, but you can't say anything to Willow, because she hasn't said anything to me and…"

"You do realize you're babbling, don't you? I think she must be contagious."

"It's just… She broke up with Kennedy and I think she and Xander are…you know…an item now."

Now that _was _a bit of a shock. Guess it shouldn't have been but the girl had been so adamant about not driving stick anymore. Though really, it hardly made her less of a lesbian to have taken up with Xander Harris. Spike rolled his eyes then winced as Buffy punched his arm. "Hey now! What was that for?"

"I know what you were thinking, and it's not nice. Xander's a good guy. He's one of my best friends. And now that he's probably _finally_ dating my other best friend…"

"Don't you think Red would tell you if that was what was going on?"

"She will. I think it's just…"

"What?"

"I think she's worried about what I'll think. But I think she's also trying to come to terms with it. I mean, she was sure she was gay and now… I mean, I always sort of thought she was bi, but for her, this might be kind of difficult. Especially because of Tara."

"Thought she'd already ended the mourning period with her tongue-stud girl."

"But that's the point. Kennedy was a girl. And Willow told me once that Tara was kind of worried about…you know…Willow going back to Boystown. Maybe she's afraid that she's betraying Tara's memory or something."

Spike shrugged. Somehow, now that he gave it a moment's thought, he wasn't inclined to believe that Xander would have been so quick to take off with Faith if he and Willow were shagging, but he wasn't going to kill Buffy's pipe dream. The look on her face… She was so bloody happy about the whole idea of the two of them. Let her hang on to her little fancies for awhile. Willow would burst her bubble soon enough.

Buffy had sidetracked him right well, and now he was tired again. "Mind if I get a few more winks in?"

"Sure," she said, repressing a smile. Hey. She'd talked. And about feelings, too. Okay, maybe they'd mostly been other people's feelings, but still – that counted, right?

This time she was the one who was sitting up and stroking Spike's hair as he lay beside her. After a few minutes, somehow she could tell he was asleep.

Maybe they were communicating this time after all.

Tbc...


	4. Chapter 4

Come Pouring Down Unified (Chapter Four)

It was only when she woke up again that Willow realized that she and Angel had both fallen back to sleep at all. Companionable silence was the last thing she remembered.

She was grateful that she hadn't been dreaming again. It was so hard every time she woke up and Tara was gone. Funny how she never got used to it. Was she ever going to? Was she ever going to let Tara rest in peace?

Her neck and back ached from sleeping sitting up, but despite wanting nothing more than to find a more comfortable position and get some more rest, certain biological needs made themselves known and she was forced to get up and head for Angel's bathroom, crossing her fingers and hoping the water was still working.

Praise the goddess. Apparently Angel still paid the utility bills for this place, because the water worked. Happily, none of the noise she'd made seemed to have woken him. She, however, while still worn out, was too awake to lie back down. Drat.

There was nothing she could do about it now, though, so she decided to go back downstairs. Maybe there was something non-perishable left in the kitchen. Gosh was she ever hungry. Actually, starving was a better word; ravenous was an even better one. After this, she was never going to take a well-stocked fridge for granted ever again.

Once she got downstairs, she saw that she wasn't the only one awake. "Hey, Buffy." Willow fought to keep from salivating or sobbing at the sight of her best friend eating a candy bar. It was probably the only one in the whole hotel.

"Hey, Will," Buffy replied, the words garbled by a layer of gooey caramel. "Want some candy?"

There was more candy?

Funny, Buffy didn't seem curious about where she'd been or anything. Willow would have asked about that if her body hadn't decided to make an announcement of its own.

The sound of Willow's stomach growling loudly was a pretty good answer to her question and Buffy rummaged through her purse. Swallowing before she spoke again, she said, "I've got a Milky Way and a Snickers. Take your pick."

Willow tried not to act like a savage, but she all but snatched the Snickers out of Buffy's hand. "Thanks," she said, almost forgetting to remove the wrapper before she began eating it. Guess maybe Buffy had just figured she'd been upstairs napping, and she was right, pretty much.

Think later. Now – eat.

"Whoa. Slow down. It's probably a good idea to chew before swallowing."

"Thanks," Willow repeated after she'd finished scarfing down the chocolate. "I needed that. Glad one of us was prepared."

"Well, I'm a Slayer."

"Yep, you're 'Provision Girl'."

"Exactly. I figured I should have something with me just in case. You know how hungry I always get after slaying."

Willow raised an eyebrow at her and Buffy reddened. Faith makes one stupid, offhand remark and… "You know, that's really gotten old. And anyway, it's not like all Slayers are the same." Willow's eyebrow rose even higher. "No, seriously, it's not like that for me. It's not. There have been plenty of times when I've slayed all over the place and not even thought about… Oh God. Okay. I give up. Yes, slaying does make me… But so help me if you ever tell Faith I said that…"

"Your secret's safe with me," Willow said, grinning.

Speaking of secrets… Buffy paused for a moment, not sure if she should do what she was about to do. But she and Willow were alone right now and she might not get another chance, so… "Is it okay if I ask you something? Because it's okay if you don't want to answer, it's just…"

"You're babbling. I thought that was my job."

"Spike said the same thing."

"Spike? So you guys were…?"

"Talking." She glared at Willow."I know what that look means and no, there wasn't anything going on. We were just talking."

"Good," Willow said. "You guys need to talk." She wanted to say more, but she didn't want to be presumptuous either. She and Buffy had let their friendship fall by the wayside for awhile and there were a lot of things Willow realized she just didn't know – not well enough to start stepping in with opinions, that was for sure.

"We do." There was a pause before Buffy continued. "Nice job of trying to change the subject, by the way."

Okay, this was definitely a 'curses, foiled again' moment. Looked like Buffy was serious about asking her question and Willow was pretty sure she knew what it was. "You want to know about me and Kennedy, huh."

"Yeah." No more equivocation. This was the Buffy she remembered.

"There's not much to tell. She left me. I'm still sorta fuzzy on the 'why' part, but the 'packing all of her suitcases and walking out the door' part was pretty clear."

Okay, upstairs with Spike, Buffy had implied that she was going to be patient and wait for Willow to tell her everything when she was ready, but this was getting ridiculous and anyway, she had just given Willow chocolate, the most sacred friendship gift of all, so she was allowed to be pushy. Besides, maybe what Willow really needed was to hear that Buffy was actually okay with… "So it had nothing to do with the fact that you and Xander are together now?"

What? "Xander and I aren't together." Oh goddess. Buffy looked…disappointed. This was so not what she expected this conversation would be like. Actually, she'd sort of spent most of her time trying to figure out how not to have this conversation at all, but on the rare occasions – like a short time ago with Angel – when she'd posited what might be said, she hadn't thought Buffy would… Boy, she and Buffy really _had _lost some ground, hadn't they? Willow felt like she wanted to cry. "I'm such a stupid jerk." And had she just said that out loud?

"Why would you say that?"

"Because I thought you'd be all weird about…"

"So you _are _with Xander?" The look of hope on Buffy's face…

Boy, had Willow ever read things wrong. She wondered just how long she'd been misjudging Buffy. "No. But…"

"But?"

"I almost was. Not when Kennedy thought but after… Yeah, we sort of had a moment."

"What happened?"

"Nothing. I mean, we kissed, yeah, but then… We realized we aren't meant to be."

"Why not? Is this about Tara? Because I know she'd want you to be happy, no matter who you…"

Willow chuckled ruefully. "No. It's just… Xander has Africa now and anyway, I love him, I just don't love him like _that_. I think maybe I love him so much that it took me a long time to realize that it _wasn't_ like that, you know?"

"Yeah, I get it," Buffy said, despite the fact that she really didn't – or maybe she sort of did, only in a different way. Because she'd spent a lot of time telling herself that what she had with Spike was just sex and it wasn't at all.

But she also figured that what Willow hadn't said, but meant, was also that she really was one hundred percent gay now after all. That was okay. Buffy had no problem with that. In fact…"So does this mean you're on the lookout for a new girlfriend? Because one of the Slayers was asking me about you and…"

"No!" Willow was surprisingly vehement and Buffy frowned. "It's not that I don't appreciate the thought, but I really don't want to date another Slayer. Once was enough."

"Oh. Well I guess I can… Wait a minute. What's wrong with Slayers?"

The look on Buffy's face was priceless and Willow had to laugh, which only made it worse. She got herself under control and donned her 'serious face'. "There's absolutely nothing wrong with Slayers. They're just not my type. Kennedy was really more of a one-off."

"Okay, so we need to find you a nice girl who knows about demons and magic and isn't a Slayer. Gotcha."

"Umm… Not that I'm actually looking for someone right now, but… It…uh… It doesn't have to be a girl." Willow waited for the weird to happen.

It didn't.

"I always sort of thought you were bisexual. I mean, I know there was Tara and she was sort of uncomfortable with…"

"Buffy," Willow interrupted, "can we not do the label thing – gay, straight, bi? I'm not so into it anymore. I just want to see myself as someone who…likes who she likes, you know?"

Buffy wasn't so sure how that was somehow not being bisexual, but if Willow didn't want to be called bisexual, then Buffy just wouldn't. Still, 'someone who likes who she likes' was longer and a lot less clear. Maybe that was the point. Willow had always sort of been 'Obscurity Girl'. "Okay," she answered with a perky grin. "You got it."

Spike was coming down the stairs, listening to the two girls talking in the lobby. Guess Red had finally told Buffy what was going on. Was she really shagging Xander Harris? Sounded like she might be, though Buffy didn't sound quite as jubilant as Spike would have expected were that the case.

Of course, what really mattered to Spike was how Buffy was feeling about _him _right now. She'd dodged his inquiries pretty well. Did she want to give them a chance? Or had he read the signals wrong upstairs? Bloody hell. Any minute now he was gonna go all angst-ridden and brooding like Angel and he'd have to stake himself.

"I miss anything exciting?" he asked as he reached the bottom of the staircase.

"Spike." Darn. Willow wished he'd stayed upstairs. She hadn't had a chance to ask Buffy about him yet and it wasn't like she could bring up the subject with him here.

"Red. Buffy."

Willow watched Buffy's reaction to Spike carefully. Was she blushing? They must have had an interesting time while she and Angel were sleeping. Talking, huh? So that's what the kids were calling it these days. Willow almost smiled until she remembered… Angel. He loved Buffy, too, and Willow felt for him.

It was funny; in all the time they'd known each other and despite the fact that she'd given him back his soul – twice – they'd never talked the way they had upstairs today. She felt closer to him now than she ever had and it made her heart ache to know that he was in for more pain. He deserved love and even happiness, he did, and yet all that the universe seemed to do was take everything good away from him.

And speak of the devil. "Hi, Angel."

Buffy hadn't felt this awkward since high school. The last time she and Angel had talked… It hurt to realize that she'd been hedging her bets, keeping Angel dangling with that damn cookie dough speech while all the time…

Was she a bad person? Or was she just really clueless and scared to let go?

She froze as she felt Spike's arm slide around her shoulders.

Angel fought back the oddest urge to laugh as he watched Spike put his arm around Buffy. Again, the twinge of jealousy felt more like an echo, the ghostly itch of an amputated limb. Guess she'd been baking for so long that Angel had finally lost his appetite.

At least now he knew what the extra sense of loss he couldn't define earlier had been. He wondered if anything at all had survived the battle or if he was doomed to live on as an empty shell, seeking and never finding redemption.

The far-away look in Angel's eyes was puzzling, but more puzzling still was that Spike didn't regret what he couldn't see – jealousy and rage. He could still feel the triumph in the hand Buffy allowed to rest on her shoulder, still relish the time they'd spent alone, her head in his lap as he stroked her hair. Was it because they'd just been fighting side by side, or had he and Angel somehow stopped needing to best each other without even realizing it?

"I didn't disturb you or anything, did I?" Willow's voice cut through Angel's reverie and he turned to her.

"No, you didn't wake me." He smiled at her softly, appreciating the way she was steering the conversation away from the silent drama taking place.

"Good." She was shifting her weight and chewing her lower lip in a way that he found endearing, making him feel like he'd been her friend for longer than he could truly claim because he remembered it from days long past. "You know, we should probably go to the motel. Check on…"

"Gunn," Angel finished. He wasn't sure he cared about Illyria. An ally in the trenches didn't always become a friend when the battle was over. He could never look at her without seeing what she stole.

"Yeah, that's a good idea, pet," Spike said. His arm stayed right where it was.

Buffy looked at Angel…and at the way he wasn't looking at her. There was a time not long ago at all when she'd have been hurt and upset by his reaction to Spike's display of possessiveness. She was amazed at the fact that that time had…passed. Oh god. She was really okay with him getting over her – and with getting over him, too.

When…how… And why hadn't it happened sooner?

"We should probably get some food and stuff. And some blood," Willow suggested. She had a point, Buffy realized. There wasn't likely to be any food left at the motel and there sure as heck wasn't any blood. Spike and Angel both needed to eat, too.

"I know where to get blood nearby," Angel said, hoping that his source wasn't now on the payroll of the Senior Partners. They might have won the battle, but Angel was by no means sure the war was over.

"Sounds like a plan," Buffy said brightly.

It turned out that the blood guy was located in the opposite direction of the motel. So somehow Willow and Angel had been elected to go there, then double back, while Buffy and Spike would head straight for the motel and stop at 7-11 on the way.

Buffy had generously offered Willow her last Milky Way to tide her over and Willow was devouring it greedily as she walked. Something occurred to her as they made their way down the sidewalk. Oh gosh. She stopped before taking the last bite and asked Angel, "Does it bug you? My eating like this, I mean? 'Cause I know that in your day a lady didn't do stuff like eat on the street and…"

Angel chuckled. "I think I'm enough of a modern vampire to overlook it. Besides, you're a warrior. And enough of a lady to withstand one small lapse." He wondered why she was so concerned about being seen by anyone on the dark and near-deserted street and realized that she was nervous about something. It didn't take much to realize what that something was.

He stopped walking and she stopped, looking at him with a puzzled expression. Before she could speak, he said, "I'm okay. With Buffy and… Spike. I can accept…that they're together now. Back when I was in Sunnydale – I think I knew then that it was over. That it had _been_ over for longer than either of us wanted to admit. It just took me awhile to come to terms with that." Saying it out loud felt like breathing again. It wasn't his Shanshu, but it was a certain kind of freedom and he was grateful for it all the same.

"I'm glad," Willow said softly, and she was. It was such a blessed relief to be able to look into his eyes and see the sincerity there. After all, he was burdened with so much pain and loss that some surcease of suffering seemed to her to be the least he deserved after everything he'd been and done and sacrificed for a world that would never know enough to thank him.

She wanted to say something wise and meaningful, but she couldn't think of any words that might not undo the very peace of mind he'd somehow found, so she held her tongue. Instead, for the second time ever, she wrapped her arms around him and hugged him.

"Nice job with that dragon," she said after she finally let go.

When Angel smiled, she knew that was all she needed to say.

Tbc…


	5. Chapter 5

Come Pouring Down Unified (Chapter Five)

The food was safely stowed in Buffy's room and she and Spike were sitting next to the bed where Gunn lay sleeping.

"He looks a lot better."

"He will heal," came a voice from the corner of the room. It made Buffy jump even though she'd known Illyria was there. "The witch is very powerful."

Buffy didn't really know how to talk to…whatever Illyria was, so she let Spike handle the conversation.

"Thanks for keepin' an eye on him."

Illyria didn't reply, but Spike didn't seem to expect her to, so Buffy guessed everything was okay. Spike took her hand and they both got up, leaving the room without another word. When Buffy figured they were out of earshot, she asked, "Is it weird? Talking to her? I mean with her being in Fred's body and all?"

Buffy's timing – it was always something, that was for sure. "Most of the time she doesn't look much like Fred. 'Least not to me." He didn't say anything about Angel, about how much harder it seemed to be for him. Seemed like he owed Peaches some discretion. Besides, there were times, he had to admit, when it really _was _hard for him, too; times when he hated Illyria. He still missed Fred something awful.

When Buffy's arms were suddenly around him, he knew she understood – and understood more than he'd told her.

Strange how, after all the sex and the heat and the battles they'd fought both with and against each other, Spike had never felt closer to Buffy than he did right now.

"Good thing I got a room with a mini fridge," Willow said to Angel as she stowed the blood in that very appliance. "I hate to think of your blood getting all icky."

"I'm sorry it takes up all the space in there. You should be able to keep food for yourself, too."

She answered without thinking. "I'm pretty sure Buffy will end up with half the blood in _her _fridge." She winced and backpedaled. "I mean, she'll want me to have room for food and…" Her voice trailed off.

"It's okay. We already talked about this, remember? And I really am okay." Angel gave her a half-smile. "Thanks." He meant it, too. She had, in the space of a couple of hours, become the good friend she could have been all these years if he'd opened that door.

"Nothing to thank me for. Want me to heat up some blood for you? I have a microwave. Oh, and a coffee mug!"

As much as he wanted to let her go and get something to eat, Angel had to admit that he was extremely hungry as well and since she _had _just eaten a candy bar… "I'd like that. Thank you."

"Great," Willow chirped. There was something nice and normal about heating up food for a friend. Okay, she didn't usually heat up _blood_, but still, that didn't make this all that much less ordinary and mundane. Which was good. She had discovered that mundane tasks were very grounding after using a lot of magic.

Picking up the coffee mug that was sitting on the dresser, she checked to make sure it was clean before grabbing her pocket knife, getting a bag out of the fridge, then slitting the bag open, pouring the contents into the mug and setting it in the microwave. "I'm figuring this is kind of a low watt model, so I'm gonna put your blood in for a minute and a half. Does that sound okay?"

He nodded, so she took that as a yes and hoped she wasn't wrong about the heating time. She still recalled the stench from when she'd overheated Spike's blood once when he was still chained up in Giles's… She closed her eyes tight and fought back the memories. This was not a good time to think about Giles. Would there ever be?

There was a pained expression on Willow's face. Not hard to see that she was lost in unpleasant thought. "Are you all right?" Angel asked just as the microwave beeped.

The noise distracted her and he watched as she shook her head briefly then opened her eyes. "Soup's on," she said brightly. She wasn't going to tell him what she had been thinking about.

One thing, though – her instincts were right on. The blood was heated perfectly, though Angel barely registered that as he downed the contents in one gulp. He'd been far hungrier than he'd realized. Maybe he should heat up a second bag.

But before he could do that, there was a knock on the door. He knew who it was even before Willow opened the door.

"Hey, Buffy. Spike." Willow cheated a glance at Angel, hoping he really was okay with this, before becoming distracted by something she'd missed for so long. "Oh! Do I smell chili cheese dogs?"

"The very finest 7-11 has to offer," Buffy confirmed as she reached into the bag and pulled one out, handing it to Willow as if it were something rare and precious and much to be prized. Which it was. While you could get fast food in Brazil, it just didn't taste the same. There was something unique about American grease.

Willow took a bite of her hot dog, closing her eyes for a second or two and letting the unnatural flavours overwhelm her. She might be famished, but she still wanted to savor this. "Mmmm…"

"Guess I made the right choice then," Buffy asked, pleased to see Willow's eyes sparkle as she replied with an enthusiastic thumbs-up. Willow was still Willow – no talking with her mouth full.

Spike chuckled as he watched the witch go into raptures over her food. Silly chit, but if it made her happy… Yeah, he figured she deserved it. Buffy had told him all about how she and Xander weren't actually a twosome after all. Oddly, it made him feel badly for the girl. Being alone – it wasn't good. Well, in a motel full of hero-worshiping estrogen, she wouldn't have to be alone for long.

He caught Buffy's eye. This was as close to certain as he'd ever felt that loneliness wasn't _his_ problem anymore.

"Want some blood?" Willow asked as she swallowed the last bite of that disgusting hot dog.

"I'll get it for him," Angel replied, taking the mug he was holding over to the sink and rinsing it out. There had been a 'something' in Angel's expression. Hell's bells, guess things really were all right between them.

He barely paid attention to the blood as he downed it.

"So… What do we do now?" Willow asked. She'd gobbled up her second chili cheese dog in record time and was now happily full. Thankfully, Buffy had brought her a soda to wash it all down. Weird how Coke tasted different here, too. Probably had something to do with the water. In fact, she was pretty sure she'd read that somewhere once.

"Guess all that's left is the post-game wrap-up and…" Buffy's voice trailed off as she looked at Spike. Not hard to guess what she was thinking. But she seemed to be worried about saying it.

Willow to the rescue. "I was thinking about staying in L.A. for awhile. Want to stay with me? You can take me shopping, we can do the whole 'girl talk' thing..."

"You're not going back to Brazil?" Angel asked. He was strangely pleased – maybe because if she stayed, it would give him a chance to work on that friendship they should have had.

"Nah. Why? Brazil is Kennedy's thing. She hunts demons down there. Me? I just tagged along. And now that I'm not exactly tagging anymore…"

"You can stay at the Hyperion. All three of you. Of course, it does…"

"Need an incredible amount of cleaning? Yeah. Not so sure about that, Angel," Buffy said.

"She's right," Spike interjected. "And don't even think about expecting me to clean the place. I'm not one for gettin' down on my hands and knees."

Angel said nothing, but the slight rise of one eyebrow couldn't be prevented. He remembered a good many times when Spike was down on his…

Not something he needed to think about. But what he'd told Willow had been true. For a moment he wondered if he should track down Nina after all. She wouldn't be hard to find. He was pretty sure she _wanted_ him to find her – which was why he wasn't going to do it. He had been looking for sex and companionship and she'd been there, but he was all too aware that her feelings ran deeper. Maybe they hadn't yet risen to the level of love, but they could, and it wasn't fair to her to tie her to a relationship where she'd never get as good as she gave.

He wondered if Kennedy had realized the same thing, using the first convenient pretext to walk out because she finally realized that she was never going to have Willow's heart. Maybe she was smarter than Nina. Or had Nina known after all? Had that been why she'd given in? Angel found himself hoping so. She was a good woman and she shouldn't be waiting for someone who was never going to love her. It was hard enough for a wolf to find a mate.

"We can always find somewhere else to stay," he said, realizing he kept saying 'we', expecting the four of them to remain together. He would always be a vampire; always need family. "I'll have to see if I still have access to my accounts, of course."

"Oh! I can do that," Willow exclaimed as she pulled a laptop out from under her bed. "Maids almost never look under there," she offered by way of explanation. "Makes them less likely to get zapped by the protection spell accidentally." Hey, there was nothing wrong with using magic to safeguard something she used to help others.

In a trice, she booted up and began typing in the information as fast as Angel gave it to her. She was glad that no one had gotten around to changing the passwords or anything else yet. It wasn't one of those times when showing off her hacking skills would be fun.

What _were_ required, however, were her magical abilities. She was grateful she'd gotten some sleep to restore herself. Muttering a few words under her breath and hoping Buffy didn't realize what she was doing, Willow got past Wolfram and Hart's own less than impressive mystical barriers. That was the easy part. A few more mumbled words, but this time backed up with enough of her energy to worry her a bit, and she created the necessary paperwork. Tomorrow, all the forms needed to authorize the transactions would be found in the bank's files

And Buffy hadn't noticed a thing.

Willow made quick work of draining the accounts, transferring the funds into her own. The money couldn't stay there forever, but she had some powerful magical shields on it – even witches were concerned about protecting themselves from identity theft – and it was as good a place as any for now.

"Done," she said as she shut down her computer. "All the money is safely in the hands of those of us who aren't going to use it for evil."

"Thanks," Angel said.

"Nice work there, Red," Spike agreed.

There was silence after that. Willow figured they all felt sort of weird – what with the battle being over and all that was left being uncertainty and money. Well, at least for Willow and Angel. It sure looked like Buffy and Spike had more.

Willow was happy about that; she was. Buffy deserved love and she figured Spike did, too, it was just… She wanted some of that love stuff for herself. Oz and Tara had been the two best things in her life and despite the fact that both relationships had ultimately brought her catastrophic pain – oh, and let's not forget the 'almost ending the world' thing – she wanted someone she cared for as much as she'd cared for them. And okay, maybe that was kooky and self-destructive and even suicidal, but that didn't change the fact that she wanted what she wanted and what she wanted was definitely not a Kennedy-style fling with one of the Slayers milling around the motel…or ruining an old friendship by pretending it was something more.

She wondered what Angel wanted. Was he going to track down his wolf-lady? He hadn't sounded like that was on the agenda, but he didn't have the same options she did. He was pretty much doomed to settle. That seemed so wrong to Willow, but in all the years she'd researched, and she had, she'd never found a way to anchor his soul, to free him from the prison of its fragile connection. It was so unfair.

"Is it just me, or is it weird that there was just an almost-Apocalypse and yet no one we ran into seemed even slightly aware? " Buffy figured somebody needed to say something. All the silent brooding and contemplation going on was giving her a headache.

Spike chuckled. "Seems like no matter where you go, most people are bloody oblivious. Ten Fyarl demons could have walked into that 7-11 and the clerk wouldn't have batted an eye."

"Yeah, well, they wouldn't have been out of place next to some of the weirdos we saw in there. Sheesh! I had almost forgotten the wackiness that is L.A. after midnight."

"Speaking of which, dawn's approaching." Spike was considerate enough not to want to say it aloud, but if he and Buffy were going to make it back to her room, they'd have to do it now.

"You should go back to your room then." Angel was speaking to Buffy, but it was clear he meant Spike, too, a fact made more plain when Angel opened Willow's fridge and handed him two bags of blood. "Take these for tomorrow."

"Thanks," Spike said quietly, wanting to say more, but not willing to sound like some sentimental sap. Angel would hate that anyway. It wasn't who they were. Still, if their roles were reversed, he'd be ripping out Angel's entrails and he was amazed at the grace with which Angel was handling the situation.

Pausing briefly for Buffy to shoot her own grateful look at Angel, Spike took her arm and led her out the door. They had to hurry. The sun was about to rise.

Willow went to the curtains, making sure they were completely closed before sitting down heavily on the bed. "Guess it's just us now."

Buffy and Spike made it back into her room just in time, and luckily Spike wasn't so much as singed.

"Alone at last," she said, trying for a sort of half-mocking seductive tone.

"We were alone most of the day," Spike responded, obviously not getting into the spirit of things.

"I just meant…"

"I know what you meant." He put his arms around her waist and pulled her near. "But I meant what I said. It's gotta be different this time. If this is gonna work, we can't just go hopping into bed."

"Isn't that usually the girl's line?" Buffy grumbled. The feel of Spike's chest against her hand was wreaking havoc with her hormones.

She could feel the rumble in his chest as he chuckled. "That's only because you chits are usually the ones who are interested in more than shagging." He put a hand under her chin and tilted her face up to meet his eyes. "You are interested in more than that, aren't you? 'Cause if that's all…"

Buffy brought her finger up to his lips, shushing him. "I want more, too. You know that." She took a deep breath and prayed for courage…and to not be doing something really stupid. "You remember what I said? The last time we saw each other?" She waited for him to respond, but he didn't, so she continued. "I meant it. I meant it with all my heart. I still do."

He just stared at her with a questioning look, as if he had no idea what she was talking about. Bastard. She knew what he was doing. He wanted her to say it.

She did. "I love you, Spike."

A split second later, he was kissing her – a kiss that was sweeter and yet somehow more passionate than any they'd ever shared. If this was her reward for saying 'I love you', then she was willing to say it a hundred times a day. Especially since she really did mean it.

Holding Buffy in his arms like this – this was worth more than all the shanshus and redemptions the PTB's kept holding out like carrots on bloody sticks put together. She was warmth and sunlight and everything he'd ever dreamt of.

But he'd meant what he said, and despite the fact that his body was screaming at him to rip her clothes off and make her cry out so loud she woke up every demon in the bowels of Hell, he knew he had to stick to his guns. "I love you, too," he said softly as he ended the kiss and disentangled himself from their embrace. "I'm gonna go take a shower."

Huh? What? Her body was humming, all she wanted right now was to rip his clothes off and fuck him eight ways from Sunday and he was going to… Oh no. No, no, no! "I should join you. I mean, I need a shower, too, and water conservation is very important. We all have to do our part for the environment." While she was congratulating herself on being able to form several complete, coherent sentences, Spike slipped into the bathroom. The only reply she got from him was the click of the lock on the bathroom door.

Seething with frustration, she sat down on the bed. But as much as she wanted…well, _wanted_, she had to admit that Spike was right. This – the chemistry and the heat and the sex – had always gotten in the way before, taking the place of everything else. And as much as Buffy wanted Spike, she loved him, too, and she wanted the 'everything else' they'd been missing.

So, okay. They'd do it his way.

Tbc…


	6. Chapter 6

Come Pouring Down Unified (Chapter Six)

Watching as Angel drank a second cup of blood, Willow marveled for a moment at how normal it seemed to her even though she'd been in Brazil for so long, living with a woman whose only interest in vampires was staking them. Guess you could take the girl out of Sunnydale – or even take Sunnydale out of Sunnydale – but you couldn't take Sunnydale out of the girl.

She was about to ask him if he was okay when she realized it would be pretty much pushing it since she'd asked a bunch of times already today. It was always irritating to get asked the same question over and over. So instead she asked, "Got a vote on what to watch on TV? We have CNN and HBO, I think, in addition to the finest the broadcast networks have to offer."

Angel chuckled. He felt a sense of having missed this about Willow even though a few days ago he wouldn't have even consciously remembered her tendency towards lightening the mood. What was hard to remember now was that he'd ever believed she'd abandoned Fred. He looked at her for a long moment. Her friendship was the only blessing he'd known in what seemed like eternity and what was even more of a blessing was that it didn't feel paltry for all the loss that counterbalanced it.

"I'm not much of a television viewer." That was true. Being turned into a puppet had pretty much destroyed even the small amount of enjoyment he'd once gotten from watching TV. He fought back a sigh of relief as Willow put down the remote without turning on the ugly box. But he understood why she'd thought of it.

"I know you probably have some questions," he said haltingly.

"Yeah. It's just… I mean, I know you've gone through so much and I don't want to make you relive anything, but…"

"You want to know what happened to Wesley."

Willow felt guilty, but she really did wonder. Echoes of the way she'd looked down on him in Sunnydale resounded in her mind and… Would it have killed her to apologize the last time she saw him? He'd changed a lot – she'd seen it – but she'd said nothing. And okay, yes, there'd been the whole 'Angelus' thing to worry about, but still…

"He was killed going after Vail." Willow couldn't keep the confusion off her face. "Vail was part of the Circle of the Black Thorn."

"Oh." She watched as Angel sat down on the bed, head hanging, shoulders slumped. "It's not your…"

He looked up at her. "It's not my fault? Is that what you were going to say? I was the one in the prophecy. I'm the one whose redemption this is supposed to be about. But every time I turn around, someone else is paying the price: Doyle, Cordelia, Fred, Wesley. How is that not my fault?" He seemed almost to be pleading with her and she could see the faint shine of tears in his eyes.

For a moment, she thought she saw Tara in the reflection.

Tara, who would still be alive if she hadn't met Willow.

In seconds, Willow was sitting on the bed, her arms wrapped around Angel, and she was the one who was crying. "It's not your fault," she said over and over, wondering which of them she was saying it to – maybe the both of them.

"It's really _not _your fault, you know," she said after she pulled herself together. "They all… They all chose this – being part of the fight. And they knew it could come to this."

Angel stared into her eyes, remembering a shy young girl sitting behind a computer. "Like you," he said.

He'd taken her by surprise with that and he watched as she blinked a few times before responding. "I guess…yeah. It's so strange. It just… It feels like I've always been doing this – like I've always been… But I didn't start out that way, did I?"

There were a lot of things he could have said, but while he meant them now, he felt odd saying them when the truth was that way back then he'd thought of no one but Buffy. A part of him wondered if that selfishness was coming back to haunt him now, draining his life like some spiritual vampire, leaving him all alone. "No, you didn't" was the only thing he could say without feeling like the liar he wished he wasn't.

She stared off into space and he wondered what she was thinking. Probably about her dead lover, he decided. For a moment he felt sorry for that Kennedy girl. Tara's shadow was obviously a long one and it must have been a dark and lonely place in which to live. But then again, maybe if she'd had more to offer than the pierced tongue which was all Willow had mentioned about her, she'd have forged her own place. Willow's heart was a large one, after all.

But he wasn't going to have the chance to ask her any questions and satisfy his curiosity. There was a knock on the door.

"You better get out of the way so the sunlight doesn't hit you when…"

"Yeah," Angel said as he got up and moved to a safer location.

A second or so later, Willow opened the door to the room. Angel wasn't surprised at who he saw.

"Hey," Willow said softly as she stepped back and let Xander into the room.

"Hey," he replied.

Angel noticed the sharp turn of his head, sharper than it would have been if he'd had two eyes. He didn't like the boy, but he felt a grudging respect for him. It was something to stay in the battle after such a catastrophic loss. Something told him Xander was a better fighter now, and Angel respected that as well. "Xander," he greeted.

"Angel."

Willow was pleased that there was no snarking and only the tiniest hint of hostility in Xander's tone. The last thing she needed to deal with right now was juvenile posturing; she had a feeling the same was true for Angel.

"I'm glad you're back," Xander said. "I was gonna get worried." Obviously he wasn't talking to Angel this time.

"We were at Angel's old place. I needed some sleep. You know how wonky I get after using a whole lot of magic."

"Yeah." He was shifting ever so slightly from foot to foot, almost fidgeting. It wasn't hard to guess that he hadn't expected her to have company.

She took pity on him. "Did you want to go somewhere and talk?"

But before Xander could answer, Angel said, "I need a shower."

"Oh. Okay. You can use my shampoo and stuff. It's all in there."

"Thanks." With that, Angel went into the bathroom and shut the door. Willow was grateful. She knew he was doing this to give her and Xander a chance to talk without having to roam the motel in search of a quiet space.

A moment later, the shower was turned on. "So what did you want to talk about?"

"I…ummm…I'm taking my Slayers and going back to Africa tomorrow. It doesn't look like there's anything left here for us to do and…"

As much as she wasn't surprised, the announcement did leave Willow a little sad. Maybe more than a little. "So soon?" She had already been preparing herself for the reality that she wouldn't be getting those frequent calls asking her to help out in Africa, at least not for awhile, and she wasn't sure she was ready for Xander-less-ness right away.

He shrugged. Why did she get the feeling that this wasn't all Xander wanted to tell her?

"I'm… I'm probably not going alone. I mean – it might not be just me and… Faith said she'd kinda like to tag along."

"Tag along? Is that what they're calling it these days?" She smiled brightly, but she had to admit that this part did take her by surprise. It wasn't that she was jealous. It was just that she felt…lost.

Then she remembered what Xander had gone through when Anya died. How he'd felt when Cordelia left. Xander needed someone and if that someone was Faith… This time Willow was prepared to step back and take the fading of their friendship into the background with better grace than she had in times past. Maybe the best way to be a friend was to let go.

"Just kidding. I think it's…great, maybe. I mean, this could be really good. For both of you. She _was_ your first."

Xander's expression was soft and serious. "Yeah. But she wasn't my first love."

Willow's heart hurt and she took his hand. "I wasn't that either."

"You sure about that?"

"Xander…"

"I know. I know. It's just…"

Willow pulled him into a tight hug. "I do love you, you know. You're my very best friend. You always will be. Go be happy."

She didn't cry. She wasn't going to let tears confuse things. Xander's arms were wound tightly around her for what seemed like forever. "I love you, Will." There was more truth in those words now than there had ever been, even up on that cliff when the world came as close as it ever had to oblivion.

They let go of each other and Willow said. "I mean it. Be happy. But if Faith ever hurts you…"

"I know. You'll break out that shovel."

She smiled, reaching out to stroke Xander's cheek. He just kept looking at her, needing her to bring it all together. So she did. She kissed him. It was a soft thing, the barest brush of lips, and she hoped he would understand.

He did. "Goodbye, Willow," he said as he headed for the door.

"Goodbye," she said. She knew this was the last time she'd see him for a very long while. When he was gone, she gave in. Sitting on the bed, she burst into tears.

Buffy sat, watching Spike while he watched television. She was pretty sure none of what happened was going to make the news, but Spike was checking anyway, probably more to drive her up a wall than anything else. It was torture being on a bed with him right now; and she couldn't even blame the desire for naughty touching on slaying, either, because she hadn't had to slay a darn thing. Nope, that had been Angel and Spike and Illyria and Willow.

But Spike had still called her a hero.

She was almost grateful for the knock at the door that distracted her from her about-to-be-sentimental thoughts.

"Faith," she said as she opened the door just enough to allow her fellow Senior Slayer to enter without setting Spike on fire.

"If I'd known you had company… Well, I'd have shown up anyway, but I'd have tried peeping in the window first. What'd I miss, B?" Faith was giving Spike a look, but it wasn't a serious one and Buffy decided not to break out the possessive streak.

"Don't you wish you knew?" Spike drawled. He was almost grateful for the distraction Faith's visit offered. Resolve and good intentions aside, being alone on a bed with Buffy and not… It wasn't a bloody cakewalk, that was for sure.

"So, where's the boss?"

Buffy looked confused but Spike knew what Faith meant. "He's in Red's room."

Faith looked a bit taken aback. What was that about? "Seems like Willow's room is the place to be today." Spike understood that even less. What he was also trying to get a handle on was what was different about Faith's scent.

"What do you mean?" Buffy asked.

"Xander wanted to have a talk with her."

And the pieces suddenly fell into place. "Looking for Willow's blessing, is he now?"

Faith assumed a defensive posture, arms akimbo, and Buffy put it together. The smirk on Spike's face was a lot of help. "You? And Xander?"

"It's no big deal. Just figured I'd like to see Africa. In case you didn't know this, Cleveland's not exactly the excitement capital of the world."

She spoke in the usual dismissive Faith tone, but it didn't have the same punch. Her time in Cleveland, being the idol of the new Slayer team guarding the Hellmouth there, making her own place…it had sanded down some of the sharp edges. Pointing that out, however? That would be a really bad idea. Besides, Buffy was more caught up in her own feelings about this.

A few hours ago she'd been so happy at the idea that Xander and Willow were going to live happily ever after. Now, not only was that dream gone, but here she was starting over with Spike, Xander was moving on with Faith, and Willow… Willow was all alone.

It didn't seem fair.

"Who's gonna lead the Slayers?" Buffy asked after a moment.

"They're five by five, B. Crystal can handle the team on her own now." Buffy thought for a few seconds and connected the name to its nondescript owner. Really? Crystal? But Buffy wasn't going to second guess Faith. She knew Crystal better than Buffy did and Crystal was a Slayer, even if she was bony, had stringy, mousy brown hair, and looked exactly like what Buffy had always pictured when she saw the word 'spinster' in one of Giles's musty old...

Better not go there, Buffy. Giles was not a good thing to think about – probably not for a very long time.

"You know, I should probably get back to my room, leave you to get back to what you were doing," Faith said suddenly with a half-hearted leer. Another jolt that helped shatter the image of the old Faith. Buffy knew immediately that what she really meant was that she was hoping to find Xander there.

Vulnerable and insecure – two words Buffy guessed might have always been more true than the ones she'd thought best described Faith.

"See ya," Buffy said.

"Yeah. Have fun, you two."

"That wasn't weird at all," Buffy muttered sarcastically after the door closed and their visitor was out of earshot.

"So she's the one who's shagging Harris. Beats him pining after Willow. That pesky gender thing was always gonna be a problem there."

Oh, that's right. In the midst of telling him how Willow and Xander weren't actually a couple, she'd somehow forgotten to mention something. "You know, funny thing. Turns out Willow isn't actually one hundred percent…"

"So she's bisexual? Really? Not a surprise, except she always made such a fuss about being on the pink team."

"Yeah, well, she and I talked and… Oh, but you're not supposed to call her bisexual. She kind of made a point of that. Something about labels. I didn't really understand it, but it's important to her, so…" Buffy's voice trailed off. She wasn't going to repeat the whole 'likes who she likes' thing because Spike for _sure_ wouldn't understand that. After all, Buffy didn't even get it and she was Willow's best friend.

"She can call herself Jane Doe for all I care, love." He bounced onto the bed and then patted the space beside him. "C'mere."

Buffy eyed him warily. He had a sexy, predatory gleam in his eye. Had he changed his mind? "I thought you said we weren't going to…"

"And we're not." His voice was stern. Darn it. "But that doesn't mean I can't kiss ya."

"No, it doesn't." Buffy smiled as she climbed onto the bed and nestled against him. Mmmm… Spike lips. Lips of Spike. They were very, very good.

Angel came out of the bathroom quietly. It hurt to know that Willow was so sad. He began mulling over what he could say to console her that wouldn't give away the fact that he'd heard every word of her conversation with Xander. To his surprise, she looked up immediately, her face wet with tears.

"I know you could hear us," she said softly. He must have looked the shock he felt because she chuckled and said, "Your hair's not wet. I can tell you were in the shower, 'cause your shirt's all damp, but you never stuck your head under the water and what with vamp hearing and thin walls…" She shrugged. "It's okay, though. I pretty much knew you'd hear it all anyway."

"Sorry," he said, though he wasn't and they both knew it. He wondered, though, why he'd been so curious…and how he'd finally became so sick of introspection that this was just added to the list of things he'd worry about some other time – or maybe never.

"I probably would have told you everything. Guess this saves me the trouble." Her voice was listless and Angel sat down beside her and took her hand.

"You did the right thing, you know."

"I know."

He wondered if she did; he also wondered if she knew how unselfish and strong she was to send Xander away when he'd given her another bite at the apple of 'something.' Sure, Angel was strong enough not to seek out Nina, but if she showed up, offering him no strings and a warm body? He wasn't so sure. And what Xander offered Willow was even more than that.

"You're quite a woman, Willow."

"That's what they say."

He hated the self-mocking tone in her voice, but he wasn't sure how to make it go away. He thought for a moment and settled on the only distraction, loathsome though it was, that he could come up with. "So…any idea what's on TV?"

She chuckled. It was weak, but it wasn't self-deprecating and that was good. "None at all. This will be an adventure for us both." She got up and retrieved the remote from the dresser. "Let's see if the shows have gotten any better since I've been away."

She stretched out across the bed and Angel did likewise, watching as she clicked through the channels. At least this time if he turned into something, he was sure she could fix it. He just wished he could fix things for her. Somehow it didn't seem fair that she wasn't happy. She should be happy. Maybe, out of all the things he'd been getting wrong… Maybe helping her find some happiness would be something he could get right.

Tbc…


	7. Chapter 7

Come Pouring Down Unified (Chapter Seven)

"I should probably go in and take a shower myself, especially since it'll be nighttime soon and I'm figuring you and Spike will want to go do some shopping."

It was the first thing Willow had said in several minutes and her voice caught Angel by surprise. She was right, though. He couldn't wait to go shopping. Once upon a time, he had lived on the streets – filthy and degraded and subsisting on rats – but times had changed and right now the clothes he was wearing made his skin crawl. What was the use of having clean skin when you covered it with dirty garments? "That's a good idea," he said. And then, without thinking, he added, "You probably want to be out of here tonight, anyway, what with Xander's group leaving tomorrow and…"

He watched her face crumble and wanted to kick himself, but to his surprise, she hugged him. "Thanks." The word was more breathed than spoken, and the gratitude it contained was both genuine and immense. He hadn't made her happy, but at least Angel seemed to have gotten it right and he was glad he'd said what he did.

There wasn't anything else Willow could think of to say and she was grateful that Angel didn't expect anything more anyway. Going to the dresser, she pulled out a clean skirt and a peasant blouse along with some underwear, which she felt oddly shy about and hid in the folds of the skirt. Yeah, it was just Angel and this wasn't high school, but still… She flashed back to Angel's visit to her bedroom and stifled a grin. The more she changed…

"Be out in a minute," she caroled as she walked into the bathroom and shut the door. She didn't need to lock it. That would be just silly.

The sound of the shower spray soon followed Willow's exodus from the room and it made Angel strangely uncomfortable. She'd probably been distracted by her conversation with Xander while Angel was showering earlier, but if she hadn't been, would this have felt as…awkward to her?

If only she hadn't done that 'hiding her underwear' thing. He remembered feeling this same way when he'd visited her bedroom long ago and she'd hidden her bra. Just like then, seeing the garments themselves hadn't affected him nearly as much as her self-consciousness in hiding them. It made him think of the parts of her they concealed and… Yeah, like he really needed this right now.

Willow in the shower.

Don't go there, Angel. But it was difficult not to. He was thinking of her as a beautiful, wet, naked woman and not as his friend…who was also his ex-lover's _best_ friend.

This was what happened when you sloughed off the monastic habits which had held you together for decades. Get some for awhile and the next thing you know, you can't go without it.

He ran his hands through his hair and sat back down on the bed. The last thing he should be doing was having impure thoughts about Willow, however much she might inspire them. She had enough to deal with as it was. For that matter, so did he. He hadn't even gone to see Gunn yet. Which of course meant seeing Illyria.

Spike dealt with that creature so much better than he did. Somehow he was better able to separate her from Fred. He wondered how that was since he knew full well it wasn't that Spike didn't mourn Fred greatly, just as Angel did. But then, Spike always had been so very different from him.

Maybe now, with everything that had once driven them apart being settled, he could get to know him; they could be a real family, forge something that would fill the aching void within him. Didn't Angel deserve that? Whatever his peccancy, hadn't he earned at least that much absolution?

So caught up in brooding had he been that he hadn't heard the water shut off; it surprised him to see Willow standing before him when he raised his head. "Hey, stranger," she said, perky grin on her face, wet hair tied back in a ponytail, looking like the blameless naïf she'd been the day he met her…and making him certain his recent thoughts would never go both ways.

Between them they'd loved werewolves and Slayers and both saved and nearly doomed the world. Had he ever appeared as innocent as she did right now? Had his heart ever been as pure as he knew hers to be, in spite of everything?

"Sun's about to go down," Willow said, trying hard to be cheerful enough to at least dispel some of Angel's obvious gloom. She felt weird right now. Getting into the shower, remembering that Angel had been in it just a short while ago… Why was she even thinking like that? This was _Angel_, not some guy. Okay, he _was_ a guy, but he was also Buffy's… Well, he wasn't someone she was supposed to think of that way, that was what it all boiled down to. Angel would probably get a wiggins if he knew. He was grieving over the loss of most of his friends, and here she was – sort of, because she hadn't actually let it get that far – imagining him naked.

She really needed to get her mind out of the shower – preferably after scrubbing it clean – and focus on tonight's shopping trip. Good thing she had her ATM card with her since all the money was in her account, at least for now. Boy, she bet Cordelia would have loved this – buying Angel a whole new wardrobe.

Suddenly and without warning, she found herself bursting into tears.

Angel had no idea what was happening. One moment, Willow had been smiling and now she was sobbing. He got up and wrapped his arms around her. "What's wrong?"

"It's…it's just…" He struggled to make sense of her words through her tears. "Cordelia…she would have…she'd have liked…"

Now he understood, and Willow's words brought a tear to his own eye. Yeah, wouldn't Cordelia have enjoyed this? She'd changed and grown and become someone truly amazing, but she'd never completely lost the Queen C within and the excuse for a whole new wardrobe would have made her smile, even if it wouldn't have chased away all the grief.

"I… I think I miss her," Willow said after a moment and Angel chuckled, not because it was funny, but because it was Willow. She'd never had the chance to get to know the Cordelia he knew, the woman he'd cared for so deeply, yet she was able to mourn the seeds she must have seen inside the brash girl who'd once plagued her. It somehow meant more to him than anyone else's grief, maybe even his own.

"You'd have liked who she became," he said, and he could feel Willow nod against his chest.

"I should go wash my face," she said after a minute or two had passed. He said nothing as she let go of him and walked over to the sink; just watching her as she splashed some cold water on her face, then patted it with a towel.

Instinct told him what time it was and he opened the curtains. "I'm gonna go check on Gunn," he said. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

"Okay." He gave her a soft smile as the sound of her voice followed him out the door.

Willow looked in the mirror. She still looked blotchy and tear-stained. Not really the way she wanted to be seen by the snooty salespeople in the kind of stores Angel probably liked. Maybe makeup would help. She got out her makeup bag and…oh goddess. Why was she still carrying around this thing? It was bright pink – and it had ladybugs on it. Maybe she should start carrying something that didn't look like it belonged in a Hello Kitty backpack. Except…

_"I have to get rid of this thing."_

_"Don't!" A soft, white hand over hers – keeping her from dumping it in the trash can where it belonged._

_"C'mon. I've had it since middle school. I need to…"_

_"You need to keep it. I like it."_

_"Why?"_

_"Ladybugs make me happy."_

_"Is that all that makes you happy?"_

_A soft chuckle and bedroom eyes. "No."_

_"So tell me what else makes you happy."_

_"I have a better idea. Why don't I show you?"_

Back in Sunnydale, the day of Amy's hex and Kennedy's kiss, she'd told herself that she'd let go. She'd known that was a lie soon after, but she'd let it continue, kept telling herself that she believed it, even when every night her dreams told her the truth.

But now…maybe it wasn't some random accident that Angel had heard her say Tara's name – had forced her to acknowledge the way things really were. Maybe it was time to make the lie true…and to finally let Tara rest. Tara deserved that.

Slowly and reluctantly, Willow took each item out of the bag: the eyeliner pencil, lip gloss, eye shadow, mascara, blusher, brush, the bottle of foundation. For what seemed like the longest moment in the history of time, she stared at the empty bag; at the stains inside from different colours and brands and broken cases; at the ladybugs on it that looked faded and scratched and not at all cheerful. Yes, it was time.

"I love you, baby," she said softly as she threw the bag into the trash.

As funerals went, it wouldn't have looked solemn or reverent to anyone else, but for Willow, this was her time to finally bury her girl. She didn't cry. Tara wouldn't have wanted that. So she didn't.

Even though Tara was gone.

Angel knocked on the door to Gunn's room, surprised when Faith opened the door. "Hey, boss."

That wasn't the only surprise, though. Gunn was sitting up in bed, awake. He offered Angel a weak smile. "Heard I owe Willow," he said. Angel wondered how much else his friend knew.

"She saved your life," Angel agreed.

Gunn didn't look or sound bitter, but Angel wanted to be sure he understood. "She didn't know about Fred. No one told her until it was too late."

Gunn nodded. "Faith told me."

"Yeah. Figured he needed to know what was what." Faith looked like she was hiding something and Angel wondered if she knew how easy she was to read.

"Got something to tell you," Gunn said. "Looks like I have a new job."

"Yeah. I mean, I was gonna just hand the Cleveland team over to Crystal, but they need somebody who knows how to keep the Council out of it from now on and…"

"She figured that after dealing with you, I could handle anything," Gunn finished. His smile didn't reach his eyes but he was trying. "And…"

"I will accompany him." Illyria's strange, emotionless version of Fred's voice was always startling. Angel was glad he wasn't going to have to get used to it.

But the strangest thing about all of this was that it didn't surprise him. The plans he'd been forming at the back of his mind hadn't included Gunn at all. He wondered if he should feel guilty for that. Then he looked into Gunn's eyes and he realized he'd already known Gunn would go somewhere else…and that he'd take Illyria with him. Penance wasn't always about atoning for what you did to others; sometimes it was about what you needed to do to forgive yourself.

"She should be able to help with training." Faith shrugged as she spoke, ignoring Illyria's glare. Angel stifled a chuckle. It was too bad she and Illyria wouldn't be butting heads in Cleveland because he'd love to think of the god-king getting knocked down a peg or two on a daily basis. Faith bowed to no one.

Illyria spoke again, disregarding Faith entirely. "He needs to rest before he travels." The 'get out' was merely implied. She was obviously going soft.

Angel walked over to the bed and Gunn took his hand in a firm grip. "Thanks, man." Angel must have looked his confusion because Gunn added, "for everything."

What was Angel supposed to say to that? The truth was that friendship was another thing Spike was so much better at than he was. "I'll see you before you leave." With that, he squeezed Gunn's hand and then let go. Illyria wasn't going to stand his presence much longer.

Faith closed the door behind them as they left. "Gunn told me you slayed that dragon. Wish I could've seen that. Must have been wicked cool."

Angel gave a sharp laugh. He'd almost forgotten the way she saw things. "Yeah, if you discount the 'dodging flames' part."

"Too bad it dissolved before I could see it. Sometimes I hate the way demons do that. Wouldn't it be awesome to have some dragon head on your wall?"

Angel just shook his head, even while a part of him thought that, come to think of it, it would be sort of nice to have a wood-paneled library with shelves of books up to the ceiling and the head of that dragon mounted as a trophy.

"So you're leaving for Africa tomorrow?" he asked.

"Guess Willow told you, huh." Angel nodded, deciding it wasn't that much of a lie. After all, Willow had said she _would_ have told him. "Yeah, figured I could use some excitement." For all her attempt at a casual attitude, Angel could see Faith's nerves. She had feelings for Xander.

Xander Harris. Angel still didn't understand the boy's appeal, but if he was what Faith wanted… "Willow's staying in L.A. with me and Spike and Buffy," he said, offering her reassurance without straight out telling her he knew what she was worried about.

"Oh." There was that feigned disinterest, but underneath it he could see her fractionally relax. Still…

Forget his earlier choice. He was going to be straight with her. "Look, maybe tomorrow before you leave you should talk to Willow. I think you'll feel better if you do."

Her eyes went wide for a moment before the bravado returned. "Yeah, maybe," was all she said, but it sounded like a promise. "Am I gonna see you before I leave?"

"Yeah."

"Thanks, boss." Faith surprised him with a brief hug before turning and striding off towards Xander's room.

He headed back upstairs to Willow's room. They needed to go get the other two and then get to the stores before closing time.

Much to his surprise, he heard familiar voices coming from the room as he approached. Opening the door, he was greeted with the sight of Spike sprawled in a chair, clicking through the channels on the TV and the sounds of Buffy and Willow arguing playfully by the mirror.

"No, I am never letting you do another makeover on me."

"Why not?"

"Don't you remember the last time? I turned into a ghost!"

"Only because you insisted on wearing that sheet over yourself!"

"Did I miss something?" Angel asked.

Spike snorted. "Girl talk, that's all. How's Gunn doing?" He didn't get to hear the answer to that question.

"Angel, you're back!" Willow caroled. "Just in time."

Spike chuckled. He had to admit to sympathizing with Willow. Buffy was on some sort of cosmetics crusade, but Willow just wasn't the type.

"Shopping!" Buffy cried out happily. "But don't think you're getting out of that makeover."

Willow grumbled good-naturedly and half-smiled, but her eyes still looked sad and Buffy felt helpless. Okay, maybe the makeover idea was stupid, but she wanted to do _something _to brighten Willow's spirits and make her feel like going out and finding someone new. Having Spike back - even if he was holding out on her... It made her want the same happiness for her best friend. Willow was almost as bad as Angel with the brooding and the guilt and the not thinking she deserved to have a good life…it was driving her crazy. If only she hadn't let their friendship go to pieces for such a long time.

When they got back from shopping, she and Willow were going to have a talk – just the two of them. There had to be something she could do.

"Where to, guys?" she asked, all business as she decided to focus on shopping. Maybe she could talk Willow into at least getting some new clothes. She was sure Angel wouldn't mind if Willow got an outfit or two and maybe she could finally talk Willow into something that didn't look like she was in the Miss Wicca pageant – just for a change of pace.

"The Beverly Center," Angel said without hesitation and Buffy wanted to laugh. He'd obviously learned a thing or two about living the good life.

"Oh!" She slapped her forehead. She couldn't believe she'd forgotten… "I better go get the car keys from Faith."

"No need, pet," Spike said, grabbing her hand and pulling her towards him. "Already took care of it." With that, there was a knock on the door. "While you were in the shower, I borrowed ol' Rupes's credit card and…"

"Spike, there's a chauffeur here," Willow said as she stood in the doorway.

"Yep, he'd be the driver of the limo we're taking."

Angel shot him a look, but at least he wasn't saying no. Spike shrugged with faux innocence and waited for the ladies to walk out. He paused, but no admonition from Angel came. Would wonders never cease? A few seconds later, the two of them followed the girls and the driver down to the waiting car.

Spike got in, thinking about all the things he needed to buy. The Beverly Center, Angel had said. Looked like Peaches was springing for the good stuff. What do you know? He was behaving like a true sire.

Wonder how long that would last?

Tbc…


	8. Chapter 8

Come Pouring Down Unified (Chapter Eight)

Willow groaned with mock annoyance as she looked around the motel room at the innumerable bags, most of them belonging to Angel. "I thought men hated shopping." Angel chuckled and Willow realized she was starting to like that sound. It was nice to think that she could cheer him up. After everything he'd been through, she figured he deserved it. "Thanks for dinner," she added. "I didn't think I liked fish that much, but…"

"I'm told Tomas is one of the best seafood chefs in the country."

That brought up a question. "Angel? I know this is kind of a weird question and all and it's not like you have to answer or anything but…" She paused, but Angel didn't look angry or anything, so she forged ahead. "I know vampires don't have to eat and all, but Spike eats and I was just wondering…"

"Why I don't?" Angel grew pensive. He didn't blame her for asking – Willow had always been naturally curious – but that didn't mean the question didn't pain him. The memory of ice cream would always remain. "I have no idea. Spike's always been…more human, I guess." His voice trailed off as he added, "And now he always will be."

He shouldn't have said what he did. Willow was staring at him now, her eyes full of questions. Somehow, he felt compelled to explain. "My Shanshu. I signed it away."

She still seemed confused and he realized that she didn't know about… "It was a prophecy – about a vampire with a soul becoming human in return for fighting on the side of good. I signed away my chance in order to convince the Black Thorn I wasn't against them."

Angel looked utterly downcast but somehow Willow wasn't sure she understood. Okay, sure, being able to be happy without losing his soul would be a wonderful thing, but… "You want to be human?" And as a human herself, maybe she shouldn't have made the last word sound quite so repugnant.

Now he was staring at her liked she grown an extra head, so she hastened to explain. "Don't get me wrong, I mean, being human isn't terrible it's just… I can't see you just going back to being somebody with no powers and no destiny and a limited life span after hundreds of years of being… you." He was still staring. Great, Willow. Way to screw up a friendship you were really starting to enjoy. "All I meant was… And maybe it's just me, you know, and I'm projecting my pathological fear of waking up and finding out that I'm just that pathetic geek I was in high school again. I'm sorry. Hey, if you want me to, I can see if there's any way to undo what you did or something and…"

Seconds later, she found herself enveloped in Angel's arms.

She was right. She was utterly and completely right and Angel had a hard time understanding how he could ever have seen it any other way. Ice cream had been great but… Had he forgotten how terrifyingly easy it had been to give up the chance to be human before, even when he'd had Buffy? No, he couldn't see being someone comparatively weak and fragile; standing on the sidelines while others fought for the safety of mankind.

All right, the getting older – grey hair, wrinkles, liver spots, a paunch – none of that appealed to him either.

But what he'd truly miss would be… That would be the heightened senses; the strength; the power; the _knowing_ that he could save lives and do things that ordinary men couldn't do. What could make up for that? Happiness? Because how could he be happy knowing what he could no longer do or be?

"Thank you," he said softly to the girl in his arms, wondering if she had any idea the magic she could do just by being in his life.

"You're welcome," Willow said, not quite sure what she'd done, but glad that whatever it was had made Angel feel better.

Speaking of feelings… He was gazing into her eyes now and she was painfully aware of just how nice it was to be held, of just how much she'd missed being near someone. Funny that she felt like this was something she'd missed for a lot longer than just a few weeks.

The thoughts she was having were about to get really uncomfortable when there was a knock at the door. Someone was here. That seemed like it might be a really good thing.

"I'll get that," she said. Was it her imagination that Angel seemed reluctant to let her go? Better not think about that. Because he did and now she needed to answer the door.

Which she did. "Hi, Faith."

All right. Buffy was on board with Spike's whole 'take it slow' thing. She was. She understood his reasons completely. She did. The only thing she didn't agree with was his definition of 'slow'. Of course, he was a vampire. He saw time a whole lot differently than she did. He needed to understand that she was human, and a Slayer. Okay, she wasn't the _only _Slayer anymore, but still… Time was a-wastin', right? She was still on a faster track than most and…

Oh who was she kidding? She might just live forever the way she kept cheating death. The truth was that she was horny and in love and frankly, no matter how hard she tried, she was never going to be Meg Ryan and this was so not her speed. She was more than willing to try some post-coital conversation, but that was as 'chick flick' as she was ever going to get. She wanted Spike and she wanted him _now_.

So okay, here she was in the bathroom having given Spike an excuse about wanting to show him the new dress she bought – forging ahead with the plan Willow had helped her concoct in the dressing room at Victoria's Secret. And could she just say that for a girl who hadn't had to seduce anybody in years and years, Willow was amazingly good at this stuff? Because she had come up with all the best elements of the plan – choosing the baby pink lingerie for a more innocent look, switching the dress she'd bought at Cache into the Victoria's Secret bag and putting the undies in the dress bag, the whole idea of wanting to show the dress she'd bought to Spike as a ruse… That was all Willow. Talent like that was wasted on Kennedy and Buffy sure hoped Willow found someone who could appreciate it.

She finished fastening the garters to her stockings and checked herself out in the mirror. You know, she really did look good in pink. And it was a lot less of a cliché than black lingerie was. Yep, Willow knew her stuff. "Spike," Buffy called out through the bathroom door. "I forgot one of the bags. Do you want to bring it to me or is it okay if I come out?"

Spike groaned. Why in the name of all hell had he agreed to this fashion show? It wasn't as if he needed to see her in her new dress to know it would look amazing on her. She always looked good. And the only bag she'd left out here was a bloody Victoria's Secret bag. No way was he picking that up. He'd only end up looking in it and imagining what she'd look like in the scraps of lace he knew it contained. Like he'd be able to stop himself from shagging her senseless then.

"Might as well come out and get it yourself, pet."

"Okay," Buffy said. She could already feel herself getting wet in anticipation. Oh God. Spike would be able to smell her for sure. Too late now. She took a deep breath and strode out of the bathroom as unselfconsciously as she could manage.

What the…? In no universe Spike had ever heard of could what Buffy was wearing be described as a dress. That was… It was lace. It was pink lace that barely covered her tits or her pussy and…

"Guess I put the dress in the wrong bag after I showed it to Willow."

Oh bloody, buggering hell. She was bending over…in a thong. The barest scrap of a thong.

Nice game she was playing. Did she think he couldn't smell her? His nostrils flared. Christ! _Angel_ could probably smell her right now. Yeah, it was a game all right, and damn her, she was winning it. All his high-flown notions about taking things slow and building a relationship from scratch? Yeah, fine birds they were 'cause they'd just sailed right out the window.

In less than a second, he was out of the chair and right behind her. "I know what you came out for and it wasn't some bloody dress."

Buffy stood up, whipped around, and seemed shocked that he was so close; she began batting her eyes and doing a poor job of pretending to be completely innocent. "I asked you to bring the bag to me. Is it my fault that…"

Spike wasn't going to listen to a word of it. Frankly, he didn't feel any more inclined to wait than she did, and if the scent of her arousal was any indication, foreplay would be a waste of time. He kissed her – hungrily and without any softness. Still, a part of him registered that it was very different from how it had been back in Sunnydale. Guess that meant they really had waited long enough. He began fumbling with the clasp to her bra as his mouth moved down to her neck.

Right now, Buffy could barely think. She had missed this so much. None of the dark days, the bad times… No, none of it mattered. What mattered was that nothing in her whole life had ever felt as right as Spike's hands on her did right now. There was just one problem. "Don't rip it, okay? Let me help," she panted as she reached around and took over undoing the clasp to the beautiful bra she'd just bought before shedding it and tossing it in the direction of the table.

In seconds, just as she was about to start undoing her garter belt, Spike's hand was over hers. "Leave it on," he whispered before tearing her beautiful new underwear right off.

"I really liked those," she pouted.

"I got something you'll like even better."

Buffy giggled, but it turned to a moan very quickly as Spike's fingers found their way between her legs. Okay, he needed to get naked – like right this second. Her fingers deftly worked the buckle of his belt and then the buttons of his jeans, shoving them down his legs. "I need you."

Spike didn't need any further encouragement, pulling his t-shirt off and stepping out of the jeans his girl had done such good work of nearly getting off of him all by herself.

In an instant they were on the bed and he was about to pound into her when she turned the tables on him, flipping him over and impaling herself on his cock. "Spike," she moaned. "Oh God. Spike."

She stayed motionless, her eyes closed and head tilted back, and he got lost in the sensation of being inside her again. Nothing in all his unlife had ever felt as perfect as this; not one time he'd had her before had been nearly this right. If William had known this girl, maybe his poetry wouldn't have been so bloody awful, because right now Spike had Shakespearean sonnets running through his head.

At the moment, though, she was driving him out of his mind – because she still wasn't moving. Instead, she had his hands locked over his head and she was holding him down with an expression so sadistic it either scared him or made him burst with pride. Maybe both. "What are you playing at?"

"I just realized that you said you wanted to take it slow." There was that sadistic look again. So that's what she was about, was it? Well, he wasn't having it…but he was definitely having her.

With a deft buck of his hips, he unsettled her and flipped them over again. This time he was the one holding her wrists. "I think we can take it slow some other time, don't you?"

"Spike!" she screamed as he began moving inside her, thrusting again and again as she wrapped her legs around him. She'd almost forgotten just how incredible sex with him really was and she didn't care that she was moaning and screaming so loudly that at least half the Slayers, including Faith, were for sure aware that she was having wild sex right now. All that mattered was that she was with the right man for the right reasons at the right time – for the first time in her whole life.

Maybe the reason she hadn't remembered how good it was was because it had never actually been this good before. She was willing to bet that was the case, or she would have been if she could recall what the word 'bet' even meant. Right now she was on the cusp of an orgasm so intense that it was making her brain leak out of her ears and all she could do was claw Spike's back and moan over and over again, "I love you."

Being inside his girl, taking her hard and fast and yet – yeah, it really was a whole new experience. He loved her. And damn did he love being inside her. There wasn't any lover he'd ever had who could make him feel what she did. He was driving into her over and over again and she gave as good as she got and thank hell she was almost there because he couldn't hold out much longer. The fourth time she said "I love you" ended in a scream and he felt her walls tighten around him as she found release. Not a second later, he joined her.

"I love you, too," he said softly as he lay beside her a few moments later. She was still panting, eyes glazed, body slick with sweat. She'd never looked as beautiful to him as she did right now.

She turned to him and said, "That was…"

"Yeah, pet. It was."

She smiled but she didn't say anything more. Neither did he. Talking, he realized now, was never going to be what they were about. That was okay, though. Because somehow they seemed to be getting it right this time anyway.

Angel had left the room to 'take a walk'. Not like taking a shower was a good excuse this time, Willow figured. Who knew what Xander had told Faith? "I'm guessing you wanted to talk to me about you and Xander, right?"

"And here I thought I was 'cut to the chase girl'." Faith looked closer to nervous than Willow thought she'd ever seen. It was sort of poignant. "I just wanted to make sure we're five by five, you know? With me going to Africa and all."

There was something about the way Faith was shifting her weight, the way she was struggling to meet Willow's eyes… This wasn't just a casual thing for her. Of course, Willow had pretty much already known that or Faith would have just gotten what she wanted right here and not bothered with uprooting her whole life. "You're worried that I'm gonna step in and ruin things, huh?"

"No," Faith said with an attempt at a casual laugh. "It's not like that. Really. I'm just…"

"Look," Willow said, determined to cut through the posturing, "I know you know that Xander and I have a history, and that some of it is recent. But it's over. What isn't over is that Xander and I are friends. Best friends. We have been since the day we met and we will be friends forever. If that's a problem for you then you need to get over it. But if you want to know if I want anything more than that, then the answer is no. He's yours. You just need to know one thing: If you hurt him, I will hunt you down and make you pay. And believe me when I say that I can be very creative." She raised an eyebrow for emphasis, standing with her arms akimbo and shoulders back.

The deck of flip responses was shuffling behind Faith's eyes, but Willow was pleased – and more than a little bit shocked – when she used none of them, instead just saying, "Thanks."

"I think you'll be good for him. Don't make me wrong, okay?" She stepped to Faith and gave her a heartfelt hug.

"You're something else," Faith said, returning the embrace awkwardly before they parted.

A few seconds later a noise startled them both. "Well, guess we both know what B's up to tonight," Faith quipped.

Willow fought back a blush. Guess her plan had worked. Oh had it ever. But now she was really wishing her room wasn't quite so close to Buffy's. This was more than a bit uncomfortable.

"I'm gonna head back to my room," Faith said. Which was good, because there really wasn't much more to say. Especially with the embarrassing noises coming from Buffy's room.

"So, I hear you're staying here in L.A.," Faith said as she opened the door.

"Yeah," Willow answered, wondering what this was leading to.

"Guess Xander and I will be hearing from you then," Faith said, and with that, she was gone, leaving Willow to scratch her head and wonder how someone who seemed so straightforward somehow always managed to confuse her. About the only thing that had been familiar was the 'five by five' Faith had thrown in. Someday Willow was going to figure out what that meant.

But the important thing was finding out that Faith actually cared – cared enough to worry that someone else might have an emotional claim on Xander. Good. Xander deserved some jealousy. More than that, though, Willow wanted him to be happy. She figured that Faith might be the right girl for that, even if she wasn't totally sure why.

What would do her some good right now, however, was getting out of this room…and out of earshot of Buffy and Spike's sexual shenanigans. As delighted as she was that her friend was getting what she wanted, it wasn't like Willow wanted to be a part of it. Grabbing her jacket and the room key – how strange was it that this motel still used keys – she headed out in search of Angel. She hoped he'd gotten well away before the radio show had begun.

Tbc…


	9. Chapter 9

Come Pouring Down Unified (Chapter Nine)

"Hey there. Want some company?" Angel turned at the sound of Willow's cheerful greeting.

"Sure." He meant it, too. He was fleeing the rather extravagant sounds of sexual bliss he could still hear even now. Some company and conversation would go a long way towards distracting him. To think that a few hours ago he'd been wondering why he'd ever wanted to give up his enhanced hearing.

He'd been totally truthful when he told Willow that he accepted Buffy and Spike being together, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt to know that they were enjoying each other so completely – not so much because it was the two of them, but because it was something he could never have, not the way that they could.

Perfect happiness. Right now there was a vampire with a soul who was perfectly happy…and that vampire wasn't Angel. It would never be Angel.

"I'd offer you a dollar for your thoughts, but I kinda think I know what they are."

He chuckled softly. "A dollar?"

"Inflation?" She shrugged and her eyes locked on his. She did know what he was thinking, though he guessed it didn't take too much insight.

"I'm happy for them," Angel offered. "I am. It's just…"

Willow understood exactly what he meant. "Me, too." She reached out and took his hand. "Want to keep walking? I mean, hey, a neighborhood like this, we're bound to run into some crime or something."

This time Angel laughed, really laughed. It was a neat sound and Willow hoped she'd hear it again. "Yeah, because I have some catching up to do if I want to be as heroic as you," he said.

"Hey, you killed the dragon. I just killed…"

"Everything else."

She felt oddly on-the-spot and embarrassed at the mention of what she'd just done. Guess some things never changed. "Not _everything_. Illyria and Spike killed some of them and…hey! Dragon! Which you killed."

Angel stopped walking and so did Willow. "It's okay, you know. I'm glad you were there. Sometimes winning is the most important thing."

"Just sometimes?" she asked, confused.

"Let me be the hero next time and we'll call it even." He smiled and she realized he was…teasing. Oh gosh. Angel was joking with her. Angel joked? Wow.

"You got it." She grinned. If ever there was a time to avoid the serious talk…

"How did things go with Faith?"

Guess that time wasn't now after all. "It went okay. There was the 'five by five' thing, which I still don't understand, and the 'threatening to torture her if she hurts Xander' thing, which I think she took seriously, at least I hope so, and…I'm sorta babbling, huh?" She paused and collected herself. "It went fine. We talked for a few minutes. I think she really cares about him and that… That's good enough for me."

Angel pulled her into a brief hug – something that was becoming a habit. Add that to the ever-growing list of things he didn't want to think about too deeply. At the moment, what he was thinking about was the fact that she was his friend and, for all her bravado, it had to hurt her to watch everyone in her life pair up while she was as alone as he was. "You're not having second thoughts?"

"No," Willow answered softly, "Xander and me… We're good friends. But I guess…"

"Yeah. I know. If it means anything, I still think you did the right thing." Back to that list… Because he really did think it was a good thing that she hadn't chosen to take the opportunity for a comforting relationship with Xander…and maybe for reasons a little more complicated and selfish than just thinking comfort shouldn't be enough.

"You know, for a supposedly crime-ridden city, I'm just not seeing it," Willow said. "Here we are, alone and seemingly helpless on a dark street in a dicey neighborhood, you're in expensive clothes…"

"Criminals aren't what they used to be," Angel agreed, letting her lighten the mood. "In my day…"

"Maybe the rapscallions can hear us talking and think anyone hoping to be set upon by brigands is…"

"'Rapscallions'? 'Set upon by brigands'?" Angel boggled at her choice of words.

"Hey, you're the one who started with the whole 'in my day' thing. I was just trying to fit in."

Angel couldn't help himself; he started laughing – and raucously, at that. Her words echoed over and over and…yeah, they were funny. "'Set upon by brigands'?" he repeated, barely coherent through his own mirth.

Willow glowered and did her best not to be drawn into Angel's laughter. Okay, yes, maybe what she'd said was a little bit funny, but… Yeah, all right, it was a lot funny. She couldn't keep from laughing any longer. Soon she was doubled over, so consumed by laughter that she was unsteady on her feet. In fact, she tripped and…

Angel caught her just before she did a face plant on the sidewalk. "Thanks," she said breathily. She was trying to catch her breath after the laughter, but it was oddly difficult. Angel's arms were still around her. He wasn't letting go. Why wasn't he letting go? She looked into his eyes, wondering if the answer was there. If it was, she didn't see it. All she saw were the same way too complicated feelings she'd been having reflected back at her. Were those hers or his?

"Stop! Help!"

The scream of a strange woman from nearby interrupted her thoughts. Kind of timely. Willow would have been grateful if it hadn't meant someone was in trouble. The criminals they'd been looking for had obviously set upon somebody else.

Angel let go of her and pointed in the direction of a block of stores. "It's coming from over there."

"Let's go." Willow ran after Angel as he headed towards the woman in peril.

"Care to stop that, pet?"

Buffy's finger, which up until this moment had been tracing patterns on Spike's chest, stopped moving. "Why?"

"Because it's distracting and I think it's time we give the Slayers and Peaches a bit of a break." What he didn't say was that he was a bit worn out and could do with some real recovery time before another bout. He'd never had such exhausting sex in all his unlife… Not that he was complaining, mind, but a couple of rounds with Buffy had taken him higher than he'd ever been. Love reciprocated… It was something else and that was a fact.

"Oh God! You don't think Angel…?"

Spike chuckled. "Helen Keller could've heard ya, luv."

Buffy blushed heavily. This was so embarrassing. She hadn't cared _while_ she was having sex, but hey, her brain was sort of tapioca then. Now? Now that she was capable of actual thought? She felt sort of bad about rubbing his nose in… "It's sort of mean, isn't it? I mean here he is all cursed and we're…"

"Making the beast with two backs? Don't worry about it. If he gets too horny, he can always look up Fido."

"Fido?" Buffy propped herself up on one elbow and stared at Spike.

"Some werewolf chit. Angel bounced around the bedroom a bit with her."

Her eyes shot wide at that. "Angel…had…but what about the curse?"

Spike's eyes went cold at her tone and Buffy realized he misunderstood her. "Look, I'm not jealous, okay?" She stopped for a moment and thought… Oh God. She _wasn't _jealous. Angel had had sex with someone else and she didn't even feel a twinge. "I'm really not jealous," she said with a grin…a grin that faded as her worries came back. "But his soul? How did he not lose his soul?"

The look on Buffy's face when she reassured him for the second time – yeah, she really meant it. Not that Spike had actually been worried, not after the time they'd just had, but… All right, yeah, he'd had a moment of doubt. But Buffy loved him; she did. He knew that now. "Sex isn't perfect happiness." Buffy raised an eyebrow at him. "Well, sure, when it's us, but…"

"But not when you're not in love," she said softly, her eyes getting a sad look. "I get it."

"What's wrong?"

"I just… I feel bad for Angel, you know? I mean here we are, happy and in love and he's… He can't have that."

She had a point. For the first time, at least the first time he was willing to admit to, he felt pity for Angel. Sure Angel could be a right bastard sometimes but… Yeah he deserved better. But then something occurred to Spike and he guffawed.

"What's funny?" Buffy asked almost angrily.

"I just realized that he's upstairs with Red and they've both taken a walk on the wild side, so to speak."

"Huh?"

"They've both done the nasty with werewolves."

It took a moment, but then Buffy burst into a fit of giggles. "Oh God. They have," she choked out, even as she sort of wondered why she thought it was quite as funny as she did.

A minute or so later she stopped laughing and realized something. "I'm sweaty and sticky." She frowned as she spoke. This was the only downside to sex, but it was still a downside. She felt sort of gross.

"Could use a shower myself," Spike agreed. "Care to join me? Water conservation and all?" He winked.

Her grin was pure cat-that-ate-the-canary. "Being environmentally responsible is always a good thing." Judging by the look in Spike's eyes right now, Buffy figured it would be a _very_ good thing.

"You know, that really wasn't what I had in mind when I was hoping for some criminals to liven things up," Willow said as she and Angel reentered the motel room.

"No," Angel agreed. "I hadn't really expected to spend tonight stopping one girl from stealing another girl's cocaine. Not quite my idea of evening the score."

"But you did it very heroically," Willow said with a grin.

"Brat," Angel chided with mock annoyance.

There was an awkward silence after that; Willow was thinking about what had happened right after they'd been joking around earlier. Having complicated Angel-thoughts was not doing any good for her peace of mind, that was for sure. Why was she having them, anyway? Sure, she'd given him back his soul – twice – but that hadn't exactly created any kind of meaningful relationship between them. They hadn't even really been friends until…well…until _now_. And okay, yeah, the first time she and Tara had even had a conversation there had been sparks, but… That was totally different and thoughts like this were so not helping.

She decided that some sort of conversation would probably be a good idea. "So, where are you planning on going after tomorrow?"

'You'? "I thought we were all going to be living together." Hadn't they already discussed this? It had never occurred to Angel that Willow might have changed her mind.

"Oh. I wasn't sure you still wanted to. I mean, now with the whole 'Buffy and Spike' thing, I just thought maybe… Not that you're having a hard time with it or anything. It's just…"

She was stumbling over her words and it took him back to her literally stumbling into his arms a little while ago… Because it made him feel the same complicated pull that it did then. He'd been holding her, thinking about how adorable she was…and this was just wrong. For a lot of reasons – most of them involving feelings he wasn't certain of or certain he could be having – not for Willow and not now.

But for all that, he wanted her by his side – her and Buffy and Spike. He was uncertain and unsettled about a lot of things, but he was clear about one thing: They were his family now. And keeping family close was important. "I meant what I said. I want you to stay with me. All of you. If that's what you want."

"Sure," Willow said, "That'll be great." And it would be. Complicated feelings she was going to stop having – because for goddess's sake, this was _Angel_– aside, there wasn't any place else she'd rather be. Despite the fact that tonight's damsel in distress had been so stoned out of her head that she was risking alerting the police when her only peril was loss of her stash, Willow had the feeling there was good she could do here in Los Angeles.

Plus, the truth was that California was home. Yes, Brazil had been neat and hey, you could actually see lions in the wild in Africa, but exotic locales just weren't who she was.

Not even Istanbul.

She shook herself out of her reverie and realized that Angel was on the phone. Why hadn't he asked to borrow her cell phone instead of going through all the trouble of using the motel phone? It was probably going to cost a fortune, what with the extra fees it cost to place calls from the motel, but since neither Giles nor the Watcher's Council seemed to have canceled the credit card…

What about that, anyway? She was pretty sure Giles had to have noticed the missing card, and anyway, expenditures like these had to raise a red flag, even on a Watcher's Council account.

Maybe he felt guilty. Maybe he was letting the charges go through because he knew he'd been wrong. Or maybe he just wanted to mollify Buffy. Whatever the reason, money wasn't going to make it all better. He wasn't here, apologizing or explaining or begging for forgiveness. He was far away.

That wasn't just geographical distance either. What had happened to the Giles she knew? When did the man who'd always seen the shades of grey, the man who'd allowed civilians into the fight, who'd accepted demons as allies, who hadn't even made Buffy read the Slayer Handbook, become…_this_? This man with a Manichean worldview and a heart cold enough to allow Fred to die? This man willing to sacrifice the whole world because Angel wasn't dotting his 'i's' or crossing his 't's' in the prescribed manner.

It was pointless to even try to understand. Shaking herself out of her sad thoughts, Willow listened with some surprise as Angel talked to what sounded like a cleaning service. Guess they were going back to the Hyperion after all.

She had to say, though, that however he was making the arrangements, she was glad she wasn't going to have to do any of the hard work of making the Hyperion livable. Call her lazy, but… And it wasn't like she should use magic for household chores. The banking thing she could make excuses for, but scrubbing floors… Nope, the goddess wouldn't let her get by with that one and Buffy would definitely notice.

"Kinda surprised you could find a cleaning crew at this hour," she said as Angel hung up.

"Amazing all the different connections you make at an evil law firm."

Willow said nothing; she could see the pain still lingering in his eyes and she could tell that he was thinking about just what these frivolous connections were balanced against – so much loss.

"They'll be able to get enough of the rooms, including the kitchen and office, finished by tomorrow afternoon. We'll be able to move in tomorrow night." Angel didn't say anything more – about how glad he was that he'd have her and Spike and even Buffy there with him. He needed family to banish the pain of the voices he wouldn't hear echoing in the halls. No sweet Southern drawl, no clipped and elegant British voice, no sharp and loud California accent. They were gone.

"Spike will be glad he doesn't have to clean," Willow said. Her voice was cheery but subdued. Could she sense what he was feeling?

"He'll find something else to complain about."

Willow giggled. "Yeah. He does tend to do that." She looked at him for a long moment. "You really care about him, don't you?"

In the past, Angel would have equivocated, but… No, not now, at least not with Willow. "I guess I do. He's family." Without thinking, he added, "Like you."

Willow stared at him, her eyes wide. "You think of me as…family?" For a terrifying few seconds he worried that she was offended.

She wasn't, at least not if the hug he found himself receiving was any indication. "Thank you," she said in a voice choked with emotion. It suddenly occurred to him that she was lost, too, and needed a connection to something real and deep and important.

Should he try to talk to her? Ask her about Kennedy? About Giles? He knew how much the latter had meant to her. Maybe he should have broached the subject sooner. Or should he just not say anything at all? Would it be better to wait until she brought up the topic herself?

If there was anything in the world he wished he knew, it was how to be a friend – a friend when it didn't involve life or death or fighting evil. Somehow it had actually been easier that first day in his room. He hadn't thought about it then and yet it seemed like he'd asked all the right things. Where were those instincts now?

Willow was in his arms and now she gazed up into his face. He felt as if there was something he should do or say and for the unlife of him he couldn't figure out what it was. She had saved the world by his side and become close to him in a way no one ever had in just a few short days and he didn't have any idea what to do about it.

It would help, he thought, if she'd just close those eyes. Why hadn't he ever noticed how beautiful her eyes were before? Or more to the point, why did he have to notice now? Because holding her like this was confusing and unsettling and complicated in a way that Nina had never been, in a way that screamed danger as loud as thunder and what he really needed to do was let go of Willow and make some more phone calls or drink some blood or take a shower.

But he did none of those things. Instead, Angel looked into Willow's eyes and did the stupidest thing he'd ever done in life or unlife – he kissed her.

Tbc…


	10. Chapter 10

Come Pouring Down Unified (Chapter Ten)

It took several seconds for Willow to realize what was happening, but even then, she wasn't sure she believed it.

She was kissing Angel.

Okay, technically, he was kissing her, but she wasn't exactly fighting him off or anything. In fact she distinctly noticed that her arms were wrapped around him and she was allowing him to deepen the kiss so… Yeah, she was kissing Angel.

This was the only the second time she'd kissed a man in years and it was…different. Well, of course, everyone she'd ever kissed was different, but…

The kiss ended and Willow was confronted with the need to stop thinking and say something. Especially since she didn't understand why this had even happened. "Angel…?"

Why had he done this? They had only just become friends and here he was complicating it and possibly even ruining it by… But she'd kissed him back, hadn't she? He remembered the feel of her hands on his back, holding him close; the way her lips had parted for him.

That still didn't mean this was right, however. What if she was just lonely after losing Kennedy and letting Xander go and… Why was he hoping that _wasn't_ the case? Anything more would hardly be safe, now would it? Because Willow wasn't… Willow wasn't Nina. No, he didn't think he was in love with her yet, but there was a certain something between them even now that made him worse than nervous and…

He ran his hand through his hair and turned away. "I shouldn't have done that. I'm sorry."

"No, no," Willow replied. "It was me. I was the one with the hugging and…"

"It's not your fault. I took advantage and I'm…" He was about to apologize again, but he made the mistake of turning back to face her. Looking at those eyes, at lips still slightly swollen from his kiss – no, he wasn't really sorry at all. He _should _be, but he wasn't.

"It's okay," Willow said. "I mean, we've both been through a lot these past few days. It was a fluke, that's all." And even as she said those words, she cringed inwardly at her own stupidity. _Xander_had been a fluke and look how well that had gone. Their friendship had taken years to recover and even now… She felt like her head was going to explode.

What made it worse was the expression on Angel's face. He looked… Was it hurt, anger, or…? Willow had no idea other than that she'd obviously said something really wrong and she wished she knew exactly what and why it upset him, if it even did, because maybe she was misreading everything and…

"There's still some time before sunrise. I'm going downstairs to see about telling Spike and Buffy about the move tomorrow."

Willow didn't have a chance to say anything in response before Angel headed out the door.

"I love you, too," Buffy said before pushing the button and ending her phone call. Thank goodness she had her cell phone. Not like she expected to be able to call Italy from a motel phone.

"How is the Niblet?" Spike asked, even as he realized Dawn was a young lady of seventeen now.

"Well, she was pretty pissed that I didn't call sooner, but she was happy when I told her we were all okay. She says 'hi' by the way."

That was nice. He was fond of Dawn and hell, now she was practically family, wasn't she? Which reminded him… "I notice you didn't tell her about us."

Buffy looked caught in the headlights. "I just… I know I have to tell her. I _want _to tell her. You know that. But this just isn't something I should tell her over the phone. I wanted to wait until I can invite her here and tell her in person. You understand, right?"

Spike sighed and walked over to the bed where Buffy was sitting. He sat down beside her. "You sure you're not having second thoughts?"

Was he serious? She looked into his eyes. Oh god. He was. He really thought…after everything they'd done and said… "If you want, I'll call her back right now."

Just then, there was a knock on the door. Great. This was so not what she needed. At least she'd gotten dressed after the shower with Spike.

"Angel's here," Spike said, getting up and going to the door. Again…great. Because feeling awkward and uncomfortable was just the ticket right now. Maybe she was being punished for not telling Dawn.

"Hi," she said with the phoniest-feeling smile ever as Angel walked in.

To Angel's heightened senses, the room reeked of sex and it made him more uncomfortable than he'd thought it would – not because of Buffy and Spike but because of the feelings he was having for Willow. "Hi," he replied, a beat too late. Wonderful. The look on Spike's face told him he was now suspected of jealousy. "Just thought I should let you know that I'm having the Hyperion cleaned. We'll be able to stay there tomorrow night. That is, if you both still want to."

Spike rolled his eyes and Angel wanted to laugh; even more so when Buffy chimed in with, "Are you sure it's actually going to be, you know, inhabitable, by tomorrow night? Because, no offense, Angel, but those weren't dust bunnies I saw there. They were more like dust _cattle_."

For all she'd been through, it was sort of refreshing that some things about Buffy never changed. Angel supposed he felt the same way about Spike, who wore an expression of awe-inspiring skepticism.

"They're not doing the whole hotel at once. Just the kitchen, the office and three of the rooms."

Spike raised an eyebrow. "Three?"

"I assumed that you and Buffy would want to share one now."

"That would be the suite then, right?"

Angel bit back a growl. No, Spike never changed. "That's my room. Which you already knew."

Spike shrugged. Couldn't blame him for trying, though he supposed he owed Angel for the grace with which he was handling having his nose rubbed, literally, in the fact that Spike and Buffy had been having quite a time of it. He'd thought the expression on the poof's face a moment ago was jealousy over Buffy, but nothing else bolstered that. Maybe he was just jealous of the sex and not who was having it. Had to be rough on him, what with Fido gone. Not like he could even grab a quickie from one of the chits around here – they were all Slayers and none of them seemed to have Buffy's blessedly ecumenical attitude.

Satan help him, he was feeling sorry for Angel again. He was going soft. Guess that's what love did to a vampire. Well, all things considered, it seemed a fair enough trade. Buffy was something else, she was.

"Thanks," Buffy said, hoping Spike and Angel weren't about to start bickering. "Spike and I will be just fine in one of the rooms." Okay, so she sort of wished Angel wouldn't hog the suite, but since it _was_ his hotel… And anyway, she and Spike wouldn't be staying there forever. She wasn't sure where they'd go, but hey, she'd figure that out soon enough. For now, she guessed the least they could do was keep Angel company.

"I better go," Angel said after a silent moment. "I need to go talk to Gunn and Faith."

"Good night," Buffy said. "And thanks again. For everything," she added, thinking of the lingerie she'd bought on his dime.

"Good night."

The door closed behind their departing visitor and Buffy sat back down on the bed. That had gone…pretty okay, hadn't it? Sure, there was a tiny bit of awkward, but even she could tell that the room had hosted a sexual triathlon recently so pretty much _anyone _would have felt awkward walking in. Taking that into account, it sure seemed like the three – well, four of them, counting Willow – were going to be friends. How weird was that?

Suddenly, she felt…tired, very tired. "Spike?"

"Yeah, love?" he asked as he sat down next to her.

"Do you mind if we just sleep for awhile?"

He put his arm around her and chuckled. "Guess we do owe the Slayers and all a chance to get some rest."

She reddened slightly at the reminder of her own vocal enthusiasm earlier, but she smiled, too. "I love you," she said softly.

"Love you, too."

Click. Click. Click.

Willow was pretty sure she'd run through every channel at least eight times. It might help if she actually paid attention to the television. But how could she? She'd kissed Angel. She'd kissed _Angel_. Yes, okay, she'd been feeling sort-of-maybe-all-right-probably attracted to him, but that didn't mean this was a good idea. In fact, it was a bad idea. A really horrible, awful, apocalyptically bad idea.

This wasn't just some incredibly gorgeous vampire with big, brown eyes who had just slain a dragon and helped her save the world – this was _Angel_. As in Angel, the one-time love of Buffy's life, the vampire with a soul Willow herself had been compelled to reattach _twice _because it had a nasty habit of disappearing whenever he got too happy.

Which brought up a real conundrum: Why did Angel kiss her? Did he want more? And if he did, why? Was it because she was safe like the werewolf girl was? Or was he really, really attracted to her? Because while, on the one hand, the last thing she would ever want was to wind up costing Angel his soul, on the other hand, she didn't really want to be 'safe sex' either. She felt an uncomfortable sense of 'serves you right' as the image of Kennedy came to her mind, but it wasn't turnabout being fair play, because it wasn't fair, was it?

Sadly, she had a terrible feeling that it was. Kennedy really had been hurt – Willow knew that – and for all that she could tell herself in all honesty that she never meant to hurt her ex-lover, that didn't change the fact that she _had_. It didn't change the fact that Kennedy had only left because she knew that she didn't come first and never would.

She gave up on even the pretense of distracting herself and finally, with one last click, turned the television off and set the remote on the nightstand. She dragged herself off the bed and got a pair of pajamas out of the dresser, heading into the bathroom to change, just in case. Maybe, if she was lucky, he'd be gone for awhile longer. Hopefully a calming spell would do the trick and she'd be asleep before Angel got back to the room.

"Who'd have ever thought I'd be going to Africa, huh?" Faith said quietly. Angel could hear Xander's snoring through the door of the room they stood outside of and he quirked an eyebrow at her. "You get used to it. The noise was a lot worse in prison."

Angel had never asked her about what she'd been through behind bars. While he knew she could handle herself, he hated to think about how often she must have had to prove that.

Before he got too lost in thought, she added, "Plus, he's a much nicer bunky than I had there, if you know what I mean."

He decided not to ask about the guy she'd gone to Cleveland with either. Since she hadn't mentioned him, Angel figured they were over and done. Instead, he rolled his eyes – and Faith immediately defended her new beau. "He's not that bad, Angel. You don't know him. Besides, the eye patch? You gotta admit that it's hot."

Frankly, Angel was unwilling to concede any of Faith's points, but he wasn't the one who was running off to Africa with the boy, so who was he to say? If he made Faith happy… "Are you… Africa's a long way away. Are you sure this is what you want?"

The shrewd glance with which Faith appraised him after that last question shouldn't have surprised him. "Look, I know that you and Xander aren't exactly best buds. But…" She paused and Angel saw vulnerability in her eyes. "He's always seen something in me." There was a chuckle before she continued. "Can you believe it? I mean, we pretty much started as just a sex thing, me being his first and all, but even then… Yeah, he was always the one telling me that I was really good inside. I didn't see it then. Not even sure I see it now, but.."

"I understand," Angel said, and he thought maybe he did.

Faith, however, wasn't done. "I know he's got baggage – Anya, Willow – but I think I could be good for him. He's willing to give me that chance so… I'm gonna take it. What's the worst that could happen?" Even as she tossed out that last question, Angel knew exactly what risk she was taking.

"If he hurts you…" he said, making the same offer to Faith that Willow had made to Xander.

"Thanks, boss," she said, her eyes full of emotion. "I'm not one for all that sappy goodbye stuff, so I'm just gonna say good night, okay?"

"Take care of yourself," he said, watching her open the door and slip back into the motel room.

The click of the door as it closed was the last thing he'd hear from Faith for awhile, he was sure.

She was brave and he truly wanted things to work out for her. If there was one thing Xander Harris understood, it was the life of a Slayer. Maybe he was the right guy for Faith after all. He hoped so. She deserved someone to love.

Now, though, his goodbyes were done. He'd bidden farewell to Gunn, Illyria, and Faith. Sunrise was less than an hour away. Angel was going to have to go back to the motel room he was sharing with Willow. Willow, who he'd…

He'd kissed her. He'd known it was stupid and reckless and wrong and he'd kissed her. But what was bothering him wasn't the fact that she was his friend, his ex-lover's _best_ friend, or even the threat to his soul if things went further.

She had called it a fluke.

A fluke? Was that really all she'd felt? Because he'd felt more, a lot more than he was happy with if all it was to her was a damn fluke.

He couldn't believe that, though. Wishful thinking, maybe, but he remembered the way she'd felt in his arms, the way she'd responded, the look in her eyes. No, it wasn't just some pointless accident to her.

So then why had she said…?

Angel groaned.

Nina.

Willow must think that what he was looking for was another casual, no-strings sex partner. And why not? After all, no one knew better than she did about the peril his soul was always in. Of course she'd assume he was ever mindful of that as well. No wonder she'd called it a fluke. It was her tactful and diplomatic way of saying she wasn't that kind of girl.

Frankly, she was probably on the right track anyway. What had he been thinking? If Angelus were unleashed again, Willow would be his first kill and that would be disastrous. Who else could perform the curse again? And even if someone did, how could Angel ever live with having killed Willow, let alone anyone else he slaughtered before he was ensouled again?

No, Willow was right: the kiss was a fluke. Not because that's how he felt, but because that was how it had to be; not just for the sake of the world, but for Willow's sake as well. Because even without the threat of Angelus's return, did she really need this complication after everything she'd just been through with Kennedy and Xander? She and Angel had only just begun a friendship that promised to be such a sustaining one – why jeopardize that?

Reaching into his pocket for the key to the room, he resolved that the kiss was never going to be repeated. He could manage that; he could. He was a centuries-old vampire, not a hormone-crazed teenage boy. Willow's friendship was a wonderful thing in and of itself. It would be enough; it had to be enough. They'd have separate rooms at the Hyperion and everything would settle down.

Opening the door to the room, he was greeted by the sight of Willow…in her pajamas…curled up on the bed…sleeping.

All he had to do was get through today.

Tbc…


	11. Chapter 11

Come Pouring Down Unified (Chapter Eleven)

"You sure you're okay with Xander taking Faith to Africa?" Buffy almost hated herself for jumping right into the subject, but she wanted to be sure and let Willow know she cared about what she was going through. She and Willow hadn't had a moment of alone time since the shopping trip – the shopping trip during which all the conversation had focused on Buffy and the plan for her to get Spike into bed. She felt like a selfish person and a bad friend.

Of course, blindsiding Willow with a tough question was so the way to make up for that. Maybe she should just hit her head against the wall over and over until her brain worked. "Sorry, Will," she said before Willow could answer. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to." She made a sweeping gesture around what was now Willow's room at the Hyperion. "The cleaning people sure did a great job, didn't they? And hey, new bedspreads and stuff. Pretty snazzy, huh?"

Buffy felt like cheering when Willow giggled. Laughing Willow was good. Especially since she'd been so down since they left the motel. Come to think of it, Angel had been in a gloomy mood, too. What was up with that? Guess he was still dealing with the loss of Wesley and Fred…and now Gunn leaving. Plus, it probably wasn't easy for him to see her so happy with Spike, even though he was being really great about it. Yeah, his dour mood actually made sense.

"I really am okay," Willow said, which would be true if applied strictly as an answer to Buffy's question about Xander and Faith. Good thing Buffy hadn't been asking about how she felt in general, because _then_ Willow would have been a liar, and she really didn't want to lie to her best friend. She still hated herself for the dark days back in Sunnydale when she'd gotten so caught up in bad magic that her whole _life_ had become one big lie. "And yeah, the rooms look pretty good. Better than the motel, that's for sure. Let's just hope there's some actual food in the kitchen."

Willow decided to steer the conversation completely away from herself. "So – you and Spike? I take it everything went well last night?" Willow waggled her eyebrows mischievously.

Her gambit worked as Buffy turned scarlet. "I was kinda loud, huh," Buffy said.

"Only to people with ears," Willow teased.

Buffy collected herself. After all, she had somehow dealt with the knowing looks she got from the Slayers – and Faith – this morning. "Thanks, by the way. Couldn't have done it without you." Willow raised an eyebrow at her. Oh god. "I didn't mean… Of course I could have done…" She heard Willow snort softly from behind tightly pursed lips and punched her playfully in the arm. "You know what I meant. The seduction thing? It worked like a charm. And you were so right about the pink. Spike loved it. Which reminds me…I need to buy a new thong."

"I take it that's because…"

"Spike tore it off."

"This might be verging into 'more than I wanted to know' territory."

"Oh c'mon! You totally predicted he would do that. And besides, if I can hear about…" Buffy had been about to say 'your girlfriend's tongue stud' when she realized just how tactless that would be right now. She only wished she'd stopped herself sooner. "I'm really sorry. About Kennedy. I know it must hurt."

She watched as Willow sat down heavily on the bed. "It's… It's hard to explain. Sure, it hurts. But most of that is my ego and… I'm thinking that if that's what hurts the most, the relationship probably should have ended even sooner, y'know?"

"Yeah." Buffy sat down beside her friend. "You know, if you really don't want me to talk about Spike…"

"No! It's okay, really." Willow was horrified at herself. How bad of a friend had she become if Buffy thought she was too self-centered to be glad that Buffy was finally happy?

"Are you sure? Because I'll understand if…"

Before Buffy could finish her sentence, Willow pulled her into a hug. "I want you to be happy. And I want to hear about you being happy. I do."

"Thanks. Because… I am. I really am. And I know that's sort of weird what with everyone who's died and after everything with Giles. It's not like I don't know we still have to deal with that, by the way. But…"

"You're happy," Willow interrupted. "And that's okay. It really is. You have a right to be happy, Buffy. It's about time." She looked into her friend's eyes. "You deserve this. You both do, and hey, from the sound of things…" She chuckled as Buffy blushed again.

"Don't remind me. I can never, ever go back to that motel ever again…or talk to Faith…"

"Or go anywhere near that neighborhood."

Buffy punched Willow's arm. "I was not _that _loud." Willow raised an eyebrow at her. "Oh God. Was I that loud?" Willow nodded sheepishly and Buffy groaned.

"Maybe you could buy a ball gag."

"Willow!" Ball gags? Okay, she knew she'd lied when she told Willow that vampires were nothing like their human selves, but just how much like the vampire version _was _her best friend?

Now Willow was the one who blushed. It had just been a joke. Unfortunately, it made her envision… No, she was not going there. It was bad enough that she'd kissed him, but picturing Angel tying her to the bed? Besides, it wasn't like he'd really wanted to kiss her at all because he'd barely spoken to her since last night. All that thinking about being with Angel would do was cause her inner turmoil and emotional pain.

"I was only kidding, Buffy. I've never even seen a ball gag." Oh how she hoped she appeared as innocent as she wanted to, especially considering the direction her thoughts had gone.

"Yeah right, Will." The expression on Buffy's face was pure suspicion. "Remind me never to look in the drawer of your nightstand."

With that, both girls burst into giggles. Angel and everything unsettling disappeared and what was left was Willow and her best friend. All this moment needed was Xander and bad Indian TV…and Joyce bringing them snacks.

Those days were gone, Willow realized – really and truly gone forever. But that didn't mean there couldn't be new ones that were just as good in their own way. So no, there didn't need to be Xander or bad Indian TV, or even Joyce. Having Buffy here beside her was enough – more than enough.

"I love you, Buffy." She hugged her again for good measure.

"I love you, too." Buffy's arms stayed around her for a long moment. "But that ball gag image is not going anywhere."

Willow giggled again and then leapt to her feet. "What do you say we go check out the kitchen?"

"Great idea. There better be ice cream."

"Nice digs you have here," Spike said as he looked around Angel's suite. He thought about some snarky comment but his heart wasn't in it. Angel might have the nicest room, but Spike had the girl and that…well that meant he didn't much care where he slept, just as long as Buffy was there. Bloody hell, but he was turning into a sap. Worst part was that he didn't much care.

It occurred to him that, while Angel could never have what Spike had – and damn if he didn't honestly think that was unfair – he didn't have to occupy this suite alone. "So…Nina. You gonna look 'er up?" he asked.

Much to Spike's surprise, Angel shook his head. "No."

"Why not?"

Angel shrugged. "It wouldn't be fair to her." Especially not after last night – last night when kissing Willow had made him feel more than Nina ever had.

He was grateful when Spike dropped the subject. Now would probably be a good time to say something. "I'm happy for you – for you and Buffy."

It was almost comical how wide Spike's eyes shot open, but true to who he was, he managed to recover his air of nonchalance in short order. Angel expected nothing less. "Thanks for that."

The silence that followed was awkward but… This was new territory. He and Spike had _always_ bickered and fought and insulted each other. That had even been true when they were fucking. When they weren't? It was worse. Being friends, respecting each other? It was going to take some getting used to.

How bizarre was it that this was developing when Spike had just waltzed off with the girl who had once been the center of Angel's world?

He ran his hand through his hair as thoughts of a very different girl came unbidden.

Spike watched as Angel paced and disheveled his own carefully-coiffed hair. Did he ever have it bad. Guess that wasn't surprising; he and Buffy had been bloody loud and it was hard to imagine Angel being able to hear that racket and not thinking about getting off with something a bit more exciting than his hand. It made him wonder again about just why Angel wasn't going to give Nina a call. He'd said 'not fair to her'. Had he meant Nina or was it…? "Bet the witch isn't gonna be all alone for long. She's a cute piece. Would have been wasted on Harris."

The words had been meant to be reassuring. Angel and Willow seemed to have become pals. All he was trying to do was make his sire see that it wasn't as if he'd be abandoning the girl if he sent for Fido. But when he saw Angel's reaction…looked like he'd gotten everything wrong.

What Spike said about Willow… Before Angel could get himself back under control, he felt his eyes flash gold. Dammit. If only he could believe Spike hadn't noticed, but it was clear by the look on his face that he had.

"Bloody hell, Peaches. You don't ever do it the easy way, do ya?"

Angel had choices right now: He could feign innocence; he could refuse to talk about this; or… "I didn't mean for it to happen. It just…"

"Guess you and the girl have a lot in common at that." There'd been a time when he'd have mocked Angel for this, but now…now he couldn't do anything but feel sorry for him. Had to be hard after everything to go falling for some girl he couldn't have. Even without the soul troubles, Spike figured the witch wouldn't return his sire's feelings – though frankly, she was a lot better suited to Angel than anyone he'd ever seen the man chase in times past – but add the curse into the mix and…yeah, this was one more example of how things never seemed to go Angel's way. "Sorry." What more could he say? Not like he was gonna add that it was a damn shame Angel couldn't see his way clear to contenting himself with feeding a bone to Fido after all. It'd be like Spike settling for Harmony. Yeah, he had to admit that sometimes a man was better off with nothing.

"Yeah." Part of Angel wanted to open up, to talk about the kiss, but somehow he couldn't bring himself to go that far. The feelings he had were a burden he would just add to the lonely one he already carried. "You're right, you know. She'll find someone."

If only he could be happy about that.

"Angel got us cable," Buffy caroled from her place on the bed as Spike joined her in their shiny new room. She had to admit, the cleaning crew had done their jobs well and the new amenities made the Hyperion – or at least the part of it she had to occupy – a far cry from the decrepit, dirty place she'd thought it was.

She grinned broadly as Spike approached and kissed her. "Mmmm… I'd almost forgotten how good that was."

"Need a reminder then, do you?" The lecherous gleam in Spike's eyes made it very clear that kissing wasn't all he wanted to refresh her memory of.

"Well, my memory is pretty bad," Buffy quipped. "I've forgotten a lot of things."

Spike chuckled as he pulled his shirt over his head. It had been…well…_hours _since he'd been inside his girl. By the smell of things, that seemed as close to an eternity to her as it did to him. "This bring back any memories?"

"Hmmm… Nope. I'm gonna need a lot more help." Cheeky brat.

His hands moved to the buttons of her shirt, undoing them in short order. The cotton bra she wore underneath wasn't as hot as what she'd worn yesterday, but he already knew what a stunner she was – fancy lingerie wasn't always a requirement.

"No ripping this stuff either," she warned as she stood up, reaching behind her back and undid the hooks of her bra.

"Ah, so you do remember?"

"It's coming back to me now."

"Not the only thing that'll be comin'." He smirked as he spoke and Buffy got wet just from that look. She was never going to get used to how much she wanted him.

She slid out of her jeans and panties and watched approvingly as he shucked his jeans as well. Foreplay – it was so overrated. What she wanted was him inside her right now, making her… Oh god. "We better try and keep the noise down this time," she warned as she lay back down on the bed.

"I'm not the one who…"

"Okay, okay," Buffy interrupted, blushing again. "I just want us to be quieter this time. I mean Willow actually suggested a ball gag."

Willow? She'd suggested…? Now there was a shocker. Never knew the chit had it in her. Poor Angel. He was missing out on more than he knew.

Spike, however? He wasn't missing out on a blessed thing. Buffy was displaying herself on the bed before him, gloriously naked, and if he'd had needed to breathe he'd have been in a world of trouble. Gods below but she was the most gorgeous thing he'd seen in all his years. She looked like sunshine and blue skies and everything his kind were supposed to never see again.

"We'll just have to think of a way to keep you quiet," he said, growing more aroused than ever at all the thoughts that came to mind.

Buffy heard Spike's words and watched as his cock hardened while she stared at it. You know, maybe all that time with Willow today had rubbed off on her. She was very think-y right now. As much as she wanted Spike to fuck her senseless… "C'mere," she said, crooking her finger as she moved to the end of the bed. He looked at her quizzically and she did her best to look innocent. "You know, if we're really serious about me being quiet… It would be pretty tough for me to scream with my mouth full."

The office looked exactly as Willow remembered it from when she'd been here that last time – except that no one was there. She could see Fred's sweet face so clearly now, clearer than she had before, and it brought a tear to her eye. It must be so much worse for...

"Hey." Angel's voice startled her and she whirled around.

"Angel." Immediately, she felt nervous. Which wasn't exactly new. They'd been uncomfortable together since that…fluke. It would have been even worse if they hadn't slept through most of the day, that was for sure, although she still felt bad that he'd slept on the floor. She should have waited for him to get back, except then she'd have had to face him right away and – goddess, she'd ruined everything. Because this? It had to be her fault. After all, it was her _second_ fluke. And thanks to her own stupidity, what had promised to be a really great friendship had now gone kablooie.

"I was just thinking about Fred," she blurted out. Angel's face fell right before her eyes. Good job there, Willow. If what pitiful scraps were left of their friendship were a vampire, she was pretty sure she had just staked it.

Willow's words touched him even as they brought forth fresh reminders of his grief, of why he so needed to have _family_ with him now. It meant so much to him that Willow remembered – that the memory of someone she'd known so little had stayed with her. "Thank you."

The confusion on her face confused _him_ but he didn't ask about it. Instead, he looked around and got lost in small memories. Fred was something else, weaving herself into the fabric of his life so quickly it was hard to remember he hadn't met her the moment he got to Los Angeles. If he closed his eyes, he could almost hear her infectious drawl as she laughed with Gunn, argued over a translation with Wesley, tried to explain something scientific to Cordelia. He'd never told her how much he cherished her friendship or how special she was to him and the regret he felt dwarfed that he carried for some of his darkest deeds.

So caught up was he in the pain of remembrance that it took a moment to register that there were tears in his eyes…and a pair of warm arms around him.

She shouldn't be doing this; Willow knew she shouldn't. But the pain she could practically feel radiating from Angel compelled her to try to offer some comfort. There was never going to be a time when she didn't feel guilty for not saving Fred, even though she hadn't known, even though rationally she knew it wasn't her fault at all.

So she wrapped her arms around Angel, holding him close and trying to make him feel less alone, trying to still be that friend she so badly wanted to be. "I'm so sorry," she said. "I'm so, so sorry."

"It's not your fault." Angel's voice was a hoarse whisper as he returned Willow's embrace. He wanted to talk to her, to tell her how grateful he was that she was here, that they'd get past this attraction and be friends – just friends. But he didn't. Because she looked up at him.

Those eyes. They'd been his undoing last night just as they were his undoing now. Without allowing himself to think, Angel kissed Willow…again.

If anything, the kiss was more passionate, more needy, and more intense. He was making a statement, a small voice inside whispered, that this was no fluke and it wasn't casual, even though he knew that was exactly what he shouldn't be doing at all.

But how could he help himself? The ardour with which she was responding, the way her body fit so perfectly against his. He wanted nothing more than to throw her onto the desk and…

They couldn't. This had to stop right now. With an effort of will of which he could hardly believe himself capable, he ended the kiss. Willow was breathless and panting as she stared at him. There was hurt and rejection in those eyes of hers and he hoped his tone would reassure her as he explained, "We need to talk."

Tbc…


	12. Chapter 12

Come Pouring Down Unified (Chapter Twelve)

Angel wanted to talk. Right after kissing her. No talk that took place right after an unexpected kiss was ever good.

She waited, but he wasn't saying anything. Instead, he just stood there – looking at her – as if he expected _her_ to say something. Maybe she was supposed to at that. After all, this probably was her fault. "I'm sorry," she said. Was it just her imagination or did she sound uncertain? Worse, did she _feel_ uncertain?

If she'd sounded like she meant it, Angel would have hated Willow's apology and felt more than a little bit angry at her for it. But she didn't sound sure at all. As wrong as he knew it was, that gladdened him. And it _was _wrong – so very, very wrong. All he wanted right now was to tell her that he wasn't sorry at all; to take her in his arms and kiss her again and again; to make love to her right here.

But he couldn't. It would cost him his soul. He was more certain of that than ever. Wracking his brain he tried to think of the right thing to say – the safe thing to say. "We've been through a lot together. It's only natural that our emotions have gotten…"

"Confused," she blurted out in the tone of someone who had just figured out the solution to a difficult problem. He was glad he'd used the word 'we', shouldered his share of the blame…but it hurt to hear the rise of her voice, to see the tension in her face recede.

What a hypocritical bastard he was, wanting the girl he considered perhaps the closest friend he'd ever had to be as miserable and conflicted as he was. He _couldn't _be happy…but she could and he should want that for her, even if it took her far away – and far away from him.

'Confused.' The word rang in Willow's head. She hated the sound of it. But what else could she have done – let herself in for even more hurt and humiliation by letting Angel do all the talking? Better for him to be sure she agreed with him that this was one big goof than to leave herself open to disgust, or worse, pity. She couldn't bear it if he pitied her; that would be so degrading. It was much better that she'd spoken up and jumped on the 'this was a silly mistake' train.

After all, it wasn't like this thing with Angel was any big deal, even if he had been the one to kiss her. Because it sure seemed like he regretted it and she should, too. She was just glad for the sake of her pride that she'd been the one who first called it a fluke. It was, right? Right? Besides, she and Angel had only just become friends a few days ago; she'd been attracted to him for an even shorter time than that. How long could it possibly take to get over this and go right back to being just pals? But just to be sure everything was okay, she asked, "Are you sure you still want me to stay here? I mean, I'd totally understand if you were uncomfortable or…"

"No!" Angel interrupted. As dangerous as it was to have her here, leaving was the last thing he wanted her to do. He realized that his vehement tone had startled her, however, and he strove to rein himself in as he continued. "We're both adults. More importantly, we're friends. I want you to stay." If only he could be sure the depth of his feelings couldn't be seen in his eyes as he said those last words.

She was his friend and despite the habit of mind he had of thinking of that as something utilitarian at best and insignificant at worst, the fact was…it was everything. He'd learned that the hard way – by losing people he'd taken for granted until it was too damn late. Fretting over what he couldn't have without cherishing what he could. He would never make that same mistake again. Willow's friendship was a gift given to him by the Powers he served and he wouldn't throw it back in their teeth because it wasn't something else.

"Thanks," she said. It was pretty obvious that things were still awkward, so she added, "I'm just gonna go assess the kitchen – see what all there is and what we still need, okay?" Then she left the room. Good thing Angel didn't know that she and Buffy had already scouted the larder. It really wouldn't hurt her to look it over again anyway. At the moment, anything that didn't hurt sounded like a fine idea.

Angel watched as Willow left the room. He didn't think it was his imagination that she left just a little too fast to be off to perform a mundane task. Guess he couldn't blame her. He decided to leave the office himself, head up to his room. There were pencils and paper there. For the first time in a long time, he decided to lose himself in sketching.

Spike licked the sweat-soaked skin of Buffy's thigh before his tongue found its way to her center. He wanted to taste every inch of her. Soap and salt and sunshine – it was an intoxicating combination and he'd never tire of it. She was his addiction and that was truth.

She moaned and it sounded like music. "Spike," she breathed. No, she wasn't as loud as she'd been that first day, but there was no lack of pleasure in her voice – or love. He took her higher and higher, his tongue probing her cunt, teasing one moment, sure the next, finding a rhythm that took her over the edge. "I love you," she moaned as she found release. If only he could drown in the flavour of her ecstasy.

Giving her no time to come down, he moved up her body, sliding into her in one smooth movement, reveling in her gasp and the way her eyes shot open and locked on his, the way her legs wrapped around him. "Love you, too" he said as he moved inside her.

If she'd ever wanted to know if you could die from pleasure, Buffy figured she'd found the answer now – you couldn't. Because if you could, she would have. Even though she wasn't screaming, she was happier now than she had been yesterday, and that didn't seem possible. What also didn't seem possible was that she'd been in heaven when she died, because this was so much better than that had been and… her brain had now shut down, thank you, which was a good thing as far as she was concerned. Because thinking? Overrated – so, so overrated. Spike was the whole world and all Buffy wanted was to stay like this forever. And hey, that was actually a workable option. There were plenty of Slayers out there now. Would it really matter if she never left this room again?

She let out a low moan as Spike thrust into her again. Love, it really did make everything better.

Well, at least a second trip to the kitchen had told Willow that they needed to buy some kosher pickles. It made the whole exercise seem a lot less like a way to get away from Angel and more like a necessary part of setting up housekeeping. Of course, she had then spent a further twenty minutes or so opening cupboards and checking drawers whose contents she was already familiar with, but when she came out, Angel was gone so…

Yeah, she was relieved. Her ego had taken a hit when Kennedy left and even if she was the first one who'd called what happened between her and Angel a fluke, that didn't mean it was easy to take the way that Angel agreed with that assessment. Seeing him right now? Not on her list of favorite activities. One look at those brown eyes and she'd be right back to the humiliation of remembering how she'd imagined him naked…the way she'd held him tight and kissed him for all she was worth. Those memories would be so much less painful if Angel didn't apparently see them as misplaced redirection of the intense emotions that came from loss and battle.

Though how could she blame him? He'd lost his closest friends and here she was trying to… Well, not have sex with him since that would be bad, but…

She had no idea _what_ she was trying to do. It wasn't like she had thought about any of this in advance. Angel was the last guy in the world she'd make a conscious play for. It was still hard for her to wrap her head around the idea that he didn't have 'Property of Buffy Summers' stamped on his forehead.

All of this was confusing and upsetting, so she headed right back to her room, hoping her laptop would offer her some distractions.

Sketching made the time pass, that was for sure. Unfortunately, when Angel finally stopped what he was doing and looked at what he had been drawing… Well, it didn't do much for his peace of mind. Of course, he'd been drawing Willow.

Her face stared back at him from the page, slightly upturned, the way it had been right before he'd kissed her the first time.

Great, he wasn't in hell, but he was being tormented all the same – this time by his own hand. He should have known better than to try to find solace in sketching. That had been Angelus's favorite pastime…aside from torture and…

Sex.

That made two out of three hobbies for which he shared a fondness with his demon.

He set the sketch pad down on his bedside table and sat back against the headboard again, running a hand through his hair (a habit he really needed to break). As much as his mind had been quite rational on the subject of Willow consciously, it seemed his subconscious wasn't quite so willing to help.

What was wrong with him? Hadn't he very logically come to the realization that their friendship was a precious and wonderful thing? Why couldn't he let go of this attraction and appreciate the fact that he had another chance at what he'd foolishly failed to cherish in times past?

It didn't matter why, he supposed. What mattered was that, if he were completely honest with himself, he'd admit that he couldn't and that a part of him didn't even want to try. For all that he'd only recently gotten to know her in a substantive way, she'd somehow found a place in his heart. While he acknowledged that friendship was more than he'd given it credit for being, he was also someone who craved love, who longed for someone to cherish as his alone. Maybe he was more like Spike than he'd ever realized.

It seemed he was closer to falling than he'd thought, now didn't it?

If he'd had any sense, he'd have taken Willow up on one of the several opportunities she'd given him to send her away. He'd been lying to himself when he'd made himself believe things could go back to the way they should be. How on Earth was he going to handle this?

Without even thinking, he reached over to the drawer of the night table, grateful to find that he'd left behind a tube of lotion when he'd moved out. He gave in, undoing his trousers and pushing them down, glad he went without underwear. Smoothing some lotion onto his hand, he began stroking his cock. Eyes closed, he imagined Willow astride him, her head thrown back in pleasure as she rode him – slowly at first, the two of them getting used to the feel of each other's bodies.

His hand moved faster as he imagined thrusting up into her, urging her to pick up the pace, the sound of her crying out in ecstasy as she found release. He followed, his come splattering his hand and his chest, staining his shirt, as his fantasy receded and reality returned.

He was alone.

Sticky and disappointed he got up and headed for the shower.

Buffy lay cuddled against Spike, stroking his arm, spent and so very happy. "I was quiet this time," she said with a soft grin.

"That you were, love." He was looking at her with so much emotion in his eyes that it almost made her cry. It took her back to the days when she'd thrown this back in his face, telling him she didn't want it. Moron much? She couldn't believe they had another chance…and that this time neither of them was screwing it up. Maybe she was finally an adult or something.

Okay, now that was just scary. Especially after that 'Slayers today' moment she'd had in the alley. Still, if being all mature and responsible meant that she and Spike could be happy, then maybe it was worth the prune juice and Geritol she was terrified lurked in the cupboard of her very near future.

Bringing her thoughts back into the bedroom, though, it suddenly crossed her mind that Spike might have gotten completely the wrong idea when she didn't scream. "I still liked it just as much."

Spike chuckled. His girl was one of a kind. "I know." He kissed the top of her head. "I did, too." And wasn't that a bleedin' understatement. "I love you." His voice was soft, but he knew she heard him.

"I love you, too, Spike."

The grin he now wore would have shamed the Cheshire Cat. There wasn't a luckier vampire in all the world. "What do you say we see just how quiet you can be one more time?"

Her giggles were soon turned to moans by his expert hands – and other appendages – but she still stayed very, very quiet.

The internet was failing her. As hard as she tried, Willow couldn't lose herself in anything. And honestly, if you couldn't find people to laugh at in a goth forum, there was just no hope at all. But there it was – even reading about pimply-faced boys carrying their girlfriends' blood in vials around their necks and thinking that made them card-carrying members of the undead hadn't been able to distract her from the turmoil of her angst.

Why had things gotten so complicated? When had she gone from feeling guilty about Fred and wanting to be Angel's friend to seeing him as an attractive man and wanting a relationship…oh no. Had she just thought the 'r' word?

Why hadn't she just told Angel she was moving out, or better yet, simply packed and left without saying a word? How was she going to manage this? Living here, seeing him constantly?

This was hell. It had to be hell. She had been killed in the alley fighting all those demons and she'd been sent here – to a world where she lusted after Angel and would suffer for all eternity.

It would be funny if all of this didn't actually hurt, and hurt in ways she hadn't hurt in a long time. It hurt the way seeing Oz after the fluke hurt. It hurt the way seeing Tara with that other girl had hurt. And what really caused her pain was that it hurt in ways breaking up with Kennedy, who she'd lived with…for _ages_, hadn't hurt at all.

But she was stuck; stuck looking into eyes that looked back and only saw a dear friend; stuck living with a man she was way too close to falling for.

The ring of her cell phone was a blessed interruption and she wiped her eyes on her sleeve, trying to pull herself together before taking the call. So distracted was she that she didn't even look to see who was calling before she answered.

She should have.

"Willow?" It was a voice she'd never expected to hear again. A British accent that had once seemed warm and affectionate and comforting but now brought nothing but reminders of pain and failure and betrayal.

Her own voice was ice as she responded. "Hello, Giles."

Tbc…


	13. Chapter 13

Come Pouring Down Unified (Chapter Thirteen)

Willow got off the phone feeling more confused and heavy-hearted than she had before.

She'd talked to Giles.

The words 'I'm sorry' had been said.

So why didn't that help?

Maybe it was because he hadn't been sorry for the right things. He'd said he was sorry for not telling her about Fred, and that was fine, but there hadn't been the sound of tears in his voice and he hadn't said he was sorry about the horrible way Fred had died. And while he'd asked about Buffy and Faith and Xander and the Slayers – and had expressed approval for their saving the world before offering yet another off-key apology – he hadn't asked about Spike…or Angel.

He didn't get it – he just didn't – and it hurt. Willow flashed back to that day in her dorm room when she'd cried out that he didn't see anything and she didn't think she'd been wrong or unfair anymore, or if she had been it was only then and not forever. It would have been better if he hadn't called at all, because all he'd done was make her feel much worse – offering up his assurances that there would be no charges pressed for the unauthorized use of his credit card as if that was some magnanimous gesture on his part, as if he deserved gratitude.

So why hadn't she said anything? Why hadn't she told him how much he was still hurting her and how disappointed she was in him? After all, that might have at least given him some sort of clue about how he was _supposed _to feel, given him a chance to truly make things right. But no, she'd just given monosyllabic answers to his questions along with a few noncommittal pleasantries, and she'd listened – as he talked about how they didn't need to worry about Dawn, who was in Andrew's 'capable' hands; as he prattled on about Council business Willow could care less about; as he asked questions about Buffy which Willow answered with evasions and questions about herself which she answered with outright lies.

The rift – wide as the Grand Canyon – wasn't just his fault, at least not anymore.

Of course, it wasn't as if she had any idea how to say what she wanted to say. There was also the fear that if she did find the words, Giles wouldn't understand and even hope would be gone. As long as she didn't try, she couldn't fail, now could she?

Too late now, she supposed; it was all academic. The phone call was over, Giles thought all was well…and nothing between them ever would be.

This wasn't something ice cream could fix, but Willow decided to try it anyway, getting up to go downstairs and dip into the rather surprisingly well-stocked freezer. There must have been at least ten flavours in there. She and Buffy had polished off the Phish Food, but that left nine other choices of which to avail herself.

Surprisingly, when she entered the kitchen, someone else was already there.

"Spike?"

"'Lo, Red." Spike looked up from the cup of blood he was drinking. Otter. He was wondering if Peaches was going to be able to do without it. Guess the answer to that was a resounding 'no'. But he was distracted from his culinary musings by the look on Willow's face. She looked downcast and that was a fact. "You all right?"

"Yeah. I'm fine."

She'd been a lot better at pretending back in Sunnydale, or maybe he just hadn't cared enough to see past her façade back then. Either way, he knew she was full of it. "Nice try there. Look, if you don't want to talk to me about it…" His voice trailed off. Odd thing, this – the whole 'friendship' business – though he guessed he and Willow really were at that. Not as if they hadn't had a moment or two every now and then. But it had to be more than that from now on, he reckoned, seeing as how they were practically family, what with her being Buffy's best friend.

Her eyes were questioning as she looked at him and he could almost see the scales behind them, weighing something. It was a shock, though, when he heard her next words. "I talked to Giles. He called. I...umm...I just got off the phone with him." Well, now the look on her face made sense.

"Sorry, pet."

"Thanks." She didn't really know what else to say, though it was heartening that Spike seemed to feel some genuine empathy. Now that she thought about it, that made sense. He and Giles had a complicated history, but it _was_ a history and it had a little bit of good in it, though she guessed he'd lost any lingering feelings of friendship for Giles the day he'd refused to help Fred. Come to think of it, she and Spike hadn't talked about that yet. "You know that I would have helped her, right? Fred?"

There was a look of surprise and a little confusion on his face now. "'Course I know that."

"I figured. I just… I just wanted to be sure, you know? 'Cause I know we haven't really had a chance to talk and…"

"We're square, you and me. Nothing to worry about."

Willow breathed a sigh of relief at that. She'd figured that he and Buffy had probably talked…when they weren't… Which reminded her of something else she wanted to say. "I'm really happy for you guys. That you're together now and all."

Spike chuckled. "Thanks, but I already knew that. Buffy told me who helped pick out the fancy knickers." He was glad she'd broached the subject and he was happy to oblige her in changing the topic of conversation. He wasn't any more anxious to talk about the Watcher – or Fred – than she was. "Appreciate you saying so, though."

"She really loves you."

"I love her, too." He stared into Willow's eyes, letting her see the truth in them.

"I know."

He thought about saying more, but he decided to just let sleeping dogs lie. She knew about the troubles they'd had in the past and if she wasn't bringing them up, why should he? "So what do you think of what Angel's done with the place?"

Willow forced a smile. After all, it wasn't like Spike knew that Angel wasn't exactly a comfortable topic for her. "I like it. It's clean, that's for sure."

"Yeah, and at least he remembered cable."

The more things changed…the more Spike didn't. It brought back memories – not of happy times, but somehow they were good memories anyway. Maybe because there was one thing Willow had been sure of then – her heart. "Cable is of the good," she agreed mildly.

"You hungry?"

Boy, the conversation was jumping all over the place, wasn't it? Good thing Willow was herself prone to sudden topic changes and could follow where Spike bounced. "Yeah, I came down for some ice cream."

Spike opened the freezer, deciding that a bit of chivalry wouldn't be amiss. "I think there's damn near every flavour those Ben and Jerry boys make in here. What's your pleasure?"

"Ummm…Cherry Garcia," she answered, her brow knitting in almost scarily intense concentration. She seemed a damn sight too much like Angel there for a moment or two, the way she took everything so bloody seriously – even ice cream. Damn if those two weren't a match made in some angst-ridden version of heaven.

But that wasn't going to be, now was it? The curse saw to that. Besides, whatever his sire's feelings were, Spike didn't think Willow went in for the tall, dark, and brooding type. You couldn't get much further from Glinda than Angel.

As he thought, he found a bowl and a spoon and dished up some ice cream for Willow, who was looking at him with a bemused expression. "What?"

She giggled. "You're really domesticated now."

He would have been offended if she didn't have a point. Guess deep down, he knew this was home, that he had family, the way Angel had said. And damned if he didn't suddenly see this as the pure and untainted version of the family he'd had long ago – when it had been him and Angelus and Darla and Dru. It was better, too. None of the jealousy or the cruelty. Another chance to get it right…seemed like that was the way it was all 'round. He didn't know how Angel saw it, but to Spike, this beat a Shanshu all to hell. "Don't expect me to paint your nails for you or anything," he said flippantly, keeping the tone light and far away from the tenor of his thoughts.

Willow grinned around a mouthful of ice cream and Spike gave her an answering smile. It was nice, this. But of course, there was something nicer. Rinsing his mug out and then setting it in the sink, he said, "Think I'll head back upstairs. You gonna be all right down here by yourself?"

Swallowing a mouthful of ice cream first, she answered, "Yeah. Sure. You better get back. Buffy probably already misses you."

He gave her a "Ta, pet" as he made his exit, eager to get back to his girl. He was glad he'd had this chat with Willow, though he figured he'd let Willow herself tell Buffy about the phone call she'd received. Not like he knew the details of it; not like he wanted to, either. Best to just clear his head. He needed some rest…next to the warm body of the girl he loved.

Buffy was slightly bleary-eyed when she rolled out of bed in the morning. What time was it, anyway? Why hadn't Angel put a clock in this room? It's not like she could throw open the curtains and get some idea by how light it was. Turning on the TV to find out was a bad idea, too. After all, she had a sleepy vampire to consider. Grouchy Spike would not be of the good. She smiled as she looked down at him, eyes closed, dead to the world…well, just dead, actually.

Oh God. You know, come to think of it, he was her second dead boyfriend. Did that make her a necrophiliac?

Ugh. Thinky thoughts – also not of the good. Especially since barely getting enough sleep to think at all after lots and lots of hot, sweaty fun with the dead guy peacefully snoozing in her bed. It was a darn good thing she had Slayer stamina and recuperative powers, that was for sure.

She grabbed some clothes out of the dresser and headed for the bathroom. A shower sounded like heaven. Hopefully, she wouldn't wake up Spike. After the shower, she figured she'd go talk to Willow. Maybe they could go do some girly stuff together today.

Willow had been up for hours, clicking mindlessly from website to website, looking again for the distraction she couldn't find last night and cursing the fact that almost nothing could make her sleep for more than four hours at a time. Kennedy used to call her The Energizer Bunny, sometimes fondly and sometimes with a tight little edge to her voice that Willow never understood. Not then, at least. Maybe now – now when it didn't really matter anyway because Kennedy was gone and the space where she'd fit into Willow's life had closed up as if no one had ever lived there at all.

Click.

Click.

She thought about the mourning she wasn't doing for her relationship with Kennedy and wondered if it made her a terrible person – not missing Kennedy. Funny how no one had even pretended to be shocked when she said they'd split up and how the 'sorry about that's' had all been so perfunctory. Guess everyone had known what she should have.

Sometime soon she needed to talk to Angel about transferring his money into an account of his own. Which reminded her – how had he paid the cleaning crew? Or were they just going to send a bill?

Her thoughts seemed to jump from subject to subject with each click of her mouse and Willow thought about the old days when she would have immediately thought something like this would make a super topic for a science project about the relationship between man (or woman) and machine. Now it all just gave her a headache and she wanted her brain to pick a topic and stay there.

Unfortunately, it took her at her word…and it picked Angel.

The memory of their first kiss…their second kiss… Augh! Could her brain try again please? But it didn't. It dug in its heels and pouted and, like a three year old in a temper, it refused to budge.

Angel's lips.

Angel's eyes.

The feel of Angel's hands against her back.

Over and over the kisses replayed and Willow was definitely reminded of the fact that she wasn't an innocent fifteen year old girl anymore, a girl to whom a kiss ended in a vague sort of fade-out because she couldn't really imagine going much further. Now? Now she could imagine a whole lot more – she _wanted_ a whole lot more – and it would never happen with Angel. Because if all he wanted was string-free, casual sex, she didn't want to have that with him, and if he wanted more…well, there was that pesky 'get too happy, lose your soul' thing.

None of those facts stopped her mind from forcing her to relive each kiss over and over.

A knock at her door finally did what her mind would not – it stopped the endless loop. "Come in," she said, knowing it pretty much had to be Buffy since the vamps were almost certainly sleeping. Thank heavens Buffy no longer had that telepathy thing.

"What time is it?" Okay, maybe that wasn't the best way to greet someone. Buffy felt like an idiot right now.

"Good morning to you, too." Willow was smiling, though, so Buffy figured she wasn't actually mad or anything.

"Sorry. It's just… Do you realize there are no clocks in these rooms? And it's not like I could turn on the TV or open a window, because Spike's still sleeping, and…"

"Buffy, you're babbling. I'm feeling threatened right now."

Buffy chuckled. "You're still the babble queen, I promise. No one could ever do it better than you."

Gosh had Willow missed this – light, meaningless moments with her best friend. They hadn't had this in so very long, and yet, somehow, it still felt natural. Guess that's what being friends – real friends – meant. You could just pick up where you left off and it was as if it had never been interrupted. Between yesterday's ice cream raid and right now, it felt like the bad times were just a bad dream. "Thanks. Oh, it's 11:45, by the way," Willow said, glancing at the clock on her laptop. Of course, what she knew she had to do right now was shatter the happy mood and share her unpleasant news. "Giles called last night."

Just as she expected, Buffy's face lost its glow of good humour. "Oh."

Buffy waited, but Willow didn't say anything. Guess she was wondering if she even wanted to know what was said. The look in Willow's eyes…it made Buffy wish she'd gotten the call instead. She shouldn't have turned her phone off last night. "You okay, Will?"

"Yeah." Which sounded exactly like 'no'.

"I'm sorry." Taking Willow's hand, she pulled her back to the bed and they both sat down. "I should have been the one to talk to him."

"It's okay, really."

"No, it's not. I mean, yeah, he hurt me – a lot. But he hurt you more. I mean, lying about you being on the astral plane? That was…"

Willow started to cry and Buffy realized that they hadn't really talked about this at all. They'd been too caught up in the impending apocalypse and the logistics of putting together a team to really think about how they felt when they learned all the details of what Giles had done, much less talk about those feelings. "I'm so sorry," she said again. "I know… I know, when you were dealing with the magic, that you guys got really close and…" Now Buffy was shedding more than a few tears, too. It didn't hit her how much she still thought of Giles as a father until she thought about how much Willow was hurting.

But as much as she was hurt, she was more angry at him. How dare he! She'd forgiven him for abandoning her when she was brought back to life, she'd even thought she understood – or maybe pretended she did well enough to fool even herself – but this? A betrayal that had cost the life of a girl everyone said was as sweet and caring as anyone could be? A betrayal that nearly brought down an apocalypse? There were rules in this game – about how you didn't choose which lives were worth saving. If there was weighing and choosing allowed, Andrew wouldn't be alive now, would he?

The worst, most painful thing about this? Giles had taught her those rules and now here he was being as judgmental and hypocritical as Quentin Travers had ever been. How could he? How _could_ he? No, she wasn't going to forgive him this time.

And she wasn't going to let Willow forgive him either.

Still, she couldn't help but ask one question. "Did he say he was sorry?"

What was she supposed to say to that? Willow looked into Buffy's eyes for the answer and was surprised by it. Even with tears in them, her friend's eyes shone with strength. "He said he was sorry that he didn't tell me the truth, but…" Her voice almost failed her and she paused. "He didn't say he was sorry that Fred died." She wanted to say more, but she couldn't. That just seemed like everything to her, because it brought an avalanche of other omissions to the forefront of her thoughts. Giles hadn't asked about Wesley – who had been a _Watcher_, just like him. And okay, maybe they hadn't been best friends, but… Willow had asked and she had cared and she was actually really sad that Wesley was gone and now she'd never get the chance to apologize for not giving him a chance all those years ago and…

She wrapped her arms around Buffy and the two girls cried for a time. She was so grateful that Buffy was here. She honestly didn't know if she could have handled this at all without her. "Thank you," she said in a voice still wobbly with emotion.

"I love you, Will." Buffy's voice was Slayer-strong. "And hey, we'll deal."

When Buffy said it that way, with a toss of her head and a pretty darn convincing smile, Willow had to believe her. So she did. "Yeah, we'll deal."

Tbc…


	14. Chapter 14

Come Pouring Down Unified (Chapter Fourteen)

Spike stretched, enjoying the feel of his own body – the slight ache of his muscles reminding him of the very pleasurable workout he'd been getting of late. Ah, the joys of vampire stamina and a lover who could match it.

Speaking of his lover, where the hell was she? Her side of the bed was cold and he couldn't hear the shower running. Had she gone downstairs for some grub – couldn't blame her if she had…all that sex would make anyone hungry – or was she gabbing away with Willow? He spotted a note on the night table and reached for it.

Well, that solved the mystery. The two chits had taken off to do some shopping and check out the city a bit. Good on them, he supposed, though he already missed Buffy and he'd barely been awake for five minutes. What was he supposed to do to pass the time while she was away? Oh yeah, they had cable now. Angel had better have sprung for the deluxe package, that was all Spike had to say. For once, however, he wasn't much in the mood for the telly.

He thought about looking around to see if Buffy left her cell phone and giving Niblet a call - he had no desire to get dressed and go downstairs, so seeing if the telephone in the office worked was out – but he had no idea what time it was in Italy, and anyway, it would be awkward, what with her not knowing yet that he and her sister were together. How would she take it anyway? No telling, he supposed. Depended on whether she had completely forgiven him yet for that bad business a couple of years ago.

Oh hell. Brooding like Angel again, that's what he was doing. If he began faffing about with hair gel…

Speaking of the poof, he guessed he really ought to go see him, chat a bit, keep him from drowning in his own angst. Which meant he was going to be getting dressed after all – not like he and Angel had the sort of acquaintance where casual nudity was appropriate anymore. So, with a rather dramatic sigh that really merited an audience, he dragged himself out of bed and over to the dresser, stretching again as he stood up.

He rustled through the drawer containing some of the new stuff he'd bought the other night, settling on a pair of jeans that had set Peaches back a few hundred dollars. After some thought, he added a shirt. No sense reminding the poor sod of what he couldn't have. Speaking of not reminding Angel of the pleasures of the flesh, Spike decided to take a quick shower first. Grabbing his clothes, he headed for the bathroom. There went the idea of spending a lazy day relaxing in bed.

Angel was so desperate for distraction that he actually turned on the television that had been installed in his room against his wishes. Anything that would take his mind off of Willow.

The more he tried not to think of her, the more his mind latched onto her and would not let go. It made no damn sense. She'd given him back his soul – twice – and he'd had no trouble forgetting her for months at a time, but now? Now she was all he could think about.

Aiming the remote at the TV, he clicked through the channels, desperate for anything that could occupy his mind. Two hundred channels and yet at least one hundred of them were showing reruns of some show called _Law and Order_. He couldn't watch police shows; not after Kate. What was the human fascination with crime and cruelty as entertainment anyway? Didn't they see it all around them every day? Maybe humans were more like demons than they knew. Maybe inside the plumber and the schoolteacher was an echo of Angelus or Drusilla.

He wondered what Willow would think about that theory if…. Great. He was right back at the place he was trying to flee. He shut off the TV. He had been right – television was bad, even when it wasn't turning you into a puppet.

Just when he had given up any hope of distraction, there was a knock at his door. It didn't take even a second for him to realize who it was – it was Spike. And no, he had _not _hoped it was Willow.

Of course, since it was Spike, he didn't even wait for an invitation before barging right in.

"Figured you'd be up," Spike said as he strode through the door before hearing a word. Angel looked irritated, but what did he expect? Was Spike supposed to stand on ceremony? They'd known each other for over a century, for pity's sake. Surely the niceties could be dispensed with by now.

"Hello to you, too, Spike."

Angel's tone couldn't be any less friendly. Guess maybe he'd interrupted some really intense and satisfyingly painful brooding. Too bloody bad. "That's a fine tone to take with me. Some sire you are." Spike had thought things had changed…okay yeah, they really had. Angel's tone was unfriendly, but there wasn't any glowering and Spike didn't feel any outright hostility. Guess this was just habit. And that made sense. Not like he wasn't playing the old role himself. "Sorry if I disturbed you or anything."

Angel blinked. Twice. An apology from Spike? For something as trivial as barging into his room? Pity Hell hadn't been this cold when _he_ was there. Oh how things had changed. "It's all right. I wasn't really doing anything. I'm glad for the company." The most satisfying thing about saying those last words was that Spike's astonishment now eclipsed his own. But he did mean it.

There was a moment or two of silence after that. Not all that surprising. Their feelings towards each other had changed, but that didn't mean it was easy to step out of the well-worn groove of sarcasm and antagonism that had come to define their relationship over decade after decade. "Where's Buffy?" Angel asked, finding the silence had become awfully uncomfortable.

"Out shopping with Red. Left me a note."

"Oh." Angel found himself oddly jealous; there had been no note left for _him_. But that was just foolish, wasn't it? "Did she say when she thought they'd be back?"

While Angel had used the word 'they', Spike could tell that the one he was wondering about wasn't Buffy. Hell's bells but his sire had managed to fall hard and fast. It was damn hard to conceal the pity he felt right now. He looked away and that's when he caught a glimpse of a sketchpad on the nightstand by Angel's bed. "You drawin' again?" He immediately went over, picked up the pad – ignoring Angel's strangled "no" – and flipped it open.

What Spike saw stopped him short. It was Willow, and the expression she wore… It was nothing Angel could have imagined; it was a look a man had to see for himself. Her eyes, even rendered in pencil, were glazed with hope and promise, her lips waited for a kiss.

Angel had seen that face.

"I'm guessing there's something you forgot to tell me about you and Willow."

Willow had been to many exotic places and eaten lots of different food, but there was nothing like an In 'n Out burger. Her eyes closed in bliss as she stretched her mouth wide to accommodate another bite of the glorious Double Double with cheese she had let Buffy talk her into ordering. How come there hadn't been one of these places in Sunnydale? She suddenly felt as if she'd led a very deprived life. "Mmmm…'s yummy," she said rather incoherently through a mouthful of burger-y goodness.

She didn't even mind that Buffy was laughing at her. "You know, Willow, you get way too excited about fast food."

There was no possible way you could get too excited about one of these burgers, but Willow's mouth was too full to argue. So instead she just concentrated on her food and on the fact that she hadn't thought about… Darn. Yep, she was now thinking about Angel – Angel, who didn't like food.

Doing her best to nip those thoughts in the bud, Willow swallowed and then answered Buffy. "This is not fast food, okay? This is burger nirvana. Hey, do we know whether anyone here is a witch or anything? Because this really _is_ almost too good to be true."

Buffy laughed again. "Well, it sure beats the Doublemeat." And how cool was it that she could finally laugh about that place? Talk about hell. "Still, I could get used to eating at that place Angel took us to the other night."

"Yeah, me, too."

"So, after this…we hit some more stores, right? Because seriously, you need some new clothes." The look on Willow's face was pure terror and Buffy almost dissolved into giggles again. "C'mon. It'll be fun."

"There is nothing fun about shopping. I can order some stuff online. Really. It'll be fine."

Willow wasn't serious, was she? She did not honestly believe that Buffy was just going to abandon her to a world of ill-fitting Wicca-wear, right? "We are in Los Angeles, California. That's like the capital of Shopping, USA. You _have_ to let me take you on the tour."

This was shaping up to be a very bad day. The last thing Willow wanted to do was shop. Besides… "I really don't think I should be spending Angel's money."

"Will, he totally won't mind. He already gave you permission to buy stuff back at the Beverly Center, remember? And anyway, he owes you for getting his money away from Wolfram and Hart."

There was no getting out of this was there? She looked at the wrapper before her and realized she didn't even have any burger left with which to delay the inevitable. "Okay. Lead the way."

Buffy was bouncing as she got up. Willow was scared of that bounce. What had she gotten herself into?

After running through most of the channels, Spike had finally settled on whichever channel it was that was showing _Kill Bill_. Not too bad, all told, though that Thurman chit could use some tips from Buffy, that was for sure. No one could fight like his Slayer. His girl was a damn sight better-looking, too.

Sadly, the movie wasn't doing as much as he'd hoped to while away the time 'til that very girl returned, nor was it helping distract him from the very thorny situation his sire and Willow seemed to have put them all in. Bloody hell. Why hadn't Angel just kept Nina close at hand? He might have been distracted enough not to… Oh who the hell was he kidding? Even without a soul, his sire had been the all or nothing type, obsessive and intense. _With _the soul he was always looking for that 'one true love', even when he tried not to.

Spike couldn't help but pity Willow, even though he was none too pleased with her right now. The weak excuse Angel told him she'd made about 'confusion' and a 'fluke' hadn't fooled him for a second, and he said as much. If Willow kissed Angel twice, it meant she had feelings for him. How could Spike not have some sympathy for her? He had to admit that she couldn't possibly have wanted to fall for Angel. Seemed like if it weren't for bad luck, she'd have none at all. Between losing Tara and settling for Kennedy…still, he was now wishing she'd stayed on that track and settled for Harris. Because frankly, Angel plus Willow equaled one big disaster. No one wanted to see Angelus brought back – least of all Spike – and that was what was sure to happen if those two ever shagged. Fido might be safe sex, but Red? Nah, couldn't see Angel being able to keep his feelings out of it with her.

What the hell had either of them been thinking? And how the devil were those two going to manage to live in the same place? Spike knew how hard it had been for him to keep his hands off Buffy. Yeah, alright, Red and Angel both knew the dangers if they did anything more than kiss, but when desire took over…who knew what might happen? Maybe Spike and Buffy needed to be looking for some digs of their own – far away.

Oh hell. He was being melodramatic, right? No matter what, he knew Willow had sense. She wouldn't let things go any further. He could count on that.

It was dusk now; he could feel it. Where was his girl? How long could anyone spend shopping?

Getting up, he stomped out of the room and downstairs. Nope, they weren't even in the lobby yet – not that he hadn't already known that, but there was no point in sitting in his room. He headed out into the back garden; it was overgrown enough to protect him from the almost completely faded daylight.

Much to his astonishment, he wasn't alone, though the other occupant of the space seemed determined to make a getaway. Like hell. This was someone Spike definitely wanted to talk to.

So he called out, gratified when his voice stopped the retreating figure. "Lorne."

The familiar green, horned demon turned around. "Hello, Blondie. Fancy meeting you here."

Angel was restless. He'd thrown Spike out hours ago, having finally had enough of the lectures and recriminations. What was wrong with him? What had possessed him to leave that sketch out where Spike could see it? Because now that someone knew the whole story, it made it all much more real – and it forced him to accept that there might well be unfortunate consequences to his interludes with Willow.

What were his feelings going to do to this family he was building? He and Spike had seemed well on their way repairing the damage done by time and torture; he had no trouble accepting Spike's relationship with Buffy, either. But how was he going to deal with the feelings he had for Willow, the feelings Spike had strongly opined were returned, her protestations to the contrary notwithstanding? The last thing in the world Angel wanted was for Willow to leave. His final words to Spike before heaving him out the door had been to mind his own business and that Angel had more than enough self-control to make this all a non-issue. It was true.

Still… If only his feelings for Willow could have remained platonic.

He lay back on his bed, staring at the ceiling. What was he going to do?

"Now aren't you glad I talked you into going shopping? You would never have found any of this stuff yourself. And besides, you would have totally ordered the wrong sizes."

Willow held her tongue, not wanting to argue with Buffy. Besides, she was too focused on trying to maintain the precarious balance of all the bags and boxes she was carrying as she navigated the staircase.

Step, look down, step, look down.

"I'm not sure leather pants are really me," she tentatively offered as they finally reached the landing.

"Are you kidding? You look totally hot in those."

"I think they're a bit too 'Vamp Willow' for me."

Buffy decided not to mention the pants Willow had briefly owned their freshman year – besides, those had been too big and thus didn't really count. "They are totally not. Besides, they're purple, which is a colour."

"So?"

"Vamp Willow was all decked out in black. And anyway, you didn't get the matching corset top, so you are safely outside the realm of bad girl fashion."

She shook her head as they made it to Willow's room and then set down her bags to open the door. "It's time for a fresh start, and that means a fresh style. I'm not saying your old clothes are bad or anything, it's just that everyone needs to update their look now and then."

Willow dropped her bags on the bed and turned to face Buffy, one eyebrow raised. "You do realize I heard the comment you made when I was trying on that velvet peasant skirt, right?"

"Okay, you misunderstood that."

"Did you or did you not say that the only place anyone should wear that skirt is in the evening gown competition of the Miss Wicca pageant?"

"All right, so maybe you didn't actually misunderstand me, but…"

"This is about me dating and stuff, isn't it?"

"Am I that transparent?" Buffy was worried now. Maybe she'd gone a bit overboard, focusing on making Willow's wardrobe a bit more attractive to prospective dates, but she wanted her best friend to find someone and be happy. And she was smart enough to know that Willow didn't need to look for another Tara – because no one could ever be Tara. "I wasn't trying to hurt your feelings. I'm sorry. I just want some lucky guy or girl out there to find you and make you as happy as I am."

If only Willow could be as excited about the prospect of going out and looking for Mr. or Ms. Right as Buffy was. But she was so tangled up in these feelings she had for Angel – feelings she wished she had the courage to tell Buffy about, but didn't so… "Thanks. And you didn't hurt my feelings. I'm just…"

"Scared. I know. But I'm here for you. And I promise you that I will do my best to make sure no one breaks your heart this time."

Buffy was so sincere, even though they both knew that heartbreak happened no matter what you did; Willow wanted very badly to tell her what she was going through, to tell her that her heart was already hurting. But – still a coward. So she hugged her friend and said, "I love you, Buffy."

"I love you, too, Willow."

Tbc…


	15. Chapter 15

Come Pouring Down Unified (Chapter Fifteen)

Of all the creatures Spike had thought he'd see again, Lorne was certainly not among them. He thought that Lindsey business had well and truly torn it. "Fancy meeting you here." And if that wasn't the stupidest thing he'd ever said… Well, likely not, but still…

Lorne gave a rueful chuckle. For all that he was wearing a suit in the customary loud colours Spike knew well, the demon looked somber…as if the light inside him had dimmed. "I guess I should have expected this," Lorne said, which was sort of a reply.

"Well, that makes one of us. Thought you'd washed your hands of us after…"

"After I killed Lindsey? You can say it, cupcake. I killed a man."

And the light grew dimmer. Spike felt awful. What he might have done at one time was hate Angel for it; but one thing he understood – and better than Lorne did – was that when it all came down to it, someday everyone had to do something they couldn't bear. If you were going to fight this war, it could never just be about what came easily. "He'd have betrayed us, you know. Maybe not then, but someday. Men are who they are."

There was a short laugh from Lorne. It would have been sharp if there'd been energy behind it. "Do you really believe that?"

"Yeah. I know it." Which was truth itself, and not just because he needed to believe in Angel right now. He'd believed it when the deed was done just as be believed it today. "Even folks who seem right nice and all can be the enemy." He decided to try to lighten things for Lorne just a bit. "After all, no one should know better than you that horns don't make a devil."

It worked, at least a little, though Spike also thought there was bit of moisture in Lorne's eyes. "Thanks." Lorne seemed to think for a moment. "I take it everyone made it?"

"Such as were left, yeah." Spike decided Lorne deserved another bit of news. "You know, it turned out that Willow didn't abandon Fred at all. The bloody Watcher never told her a thing. She'd have come if she'd known." Now there was no mistaking the tears, though they still didn't fall. "She's real sorry. I know she'd fix it now if she could."

"Thanks," Lorne said and Spike had no idea if that was sarcasm or not. "I'd better be going."

"You can stay here if you like." He could tell Lorne was going to say no, so he backpedaled. "Look, I know you probably don't want to see Angel right now, but…"

Lorne fixed him with a stare so shrewd that Spike wasn't sure he was seeing it right. It was the Lorne from before. "Congratulations," he said, his expression softening. Spike knew there was no sarcasm this time.

"Yeah, guess I didn't really need to sing, now did I?"

"Not for this. Hang on tight to her this time." Lorne appeared to be about to say something else, but then… "I'll come back. I just… I need time." Spike said nothing; he just nodded as Lorne turned and left the garden.

Time to go back inside and see if his girl was home.

Buffy sat on the bed. Where was Spike anyway? She thought about going to look for him, but that seemed silly and kind of creepy-possessive. She'd been gone all day. It wasn't like he was supposed to just sit in here and wait for her return. He was probably either downstairs in the kitchen drinking some blood or talking to Angel. He'd be back soon.

In the meantime, there was nothing to do right now but watch TV or think about… Thinking won – mostly because she couldn't help it. After all, Giles calling was something that was pretty hard _not_ to think about, even though she was, in fact, dealing, just as she'd sworn to Willow they would. But dealing could also involve doing, couldn't it?

Reaching into her purse, she pulled out her cell phone, staring at it as if it were a Magic 8 Ball she'd just shaken. Well, if the answer was there it was 'Reply Hazy Ask Again Later'. Maybe if she really did shake it, a better answer would appear. She flashed back to Xander in the library the night they all thought Willow had been turned and smothered a giggle. Yeah, shaking stuff was the Scooby way, wasn't it? And you know, that memory would be so much better if Giles wasn't in it. But he was.

That was the problem.

No matter where she looked in her past, it seemed like Giles was there, at least in the best parts, the most important parts, and it hurt. Because he might look the same and sound the same, but he wasn't the Giles who had become a father to her anymore. What happened? How did he change? Was he possessed? At that last thought, her spirits lifted, only to crash again. Willow would have said something – she'd have known if Giles had been taken over by some demon.

How sad was it that Buffy had been hoping Giles had been invaded by the hateful spirit of a past Watcher or something? How sad was it that it really would have been better than the truth?

Just when she was about to truly crash into despair, she heard a voice. "Hey there, pet? How'd the shopping go?"

Buffy's mind was so far from her shopping trip that it actually took her a second or two to answer. "Oh. Fine. Great, actually."

"Really." Spike wasn't buying it for a second. Her smile was patently phony. He sat down next to her on the bed and put his arm around her. "What happened?"

"That obvious, huh?"

"Just a bit." What was he supposed to say? Truth was, she was easier to read than one of those children's primers.

"The shopping was great. I managed to stop Willow from buying nothing but broomstick skirts." Spike chuckled, but he was well impressed. Never thought he'd see the day. "It's just…"

"Just…?" Spike prompted.

"Giles called. Willow told me he called her last night."

Spike decided to come clean. "Yeah, she told me."

All right. That was kind of a shock. It hurt, too. "She…she told you first?" Buffy had thought she and Willow were back on the right track, but now…

Spike squeezed her shoulder. "It wasn't like that. You were fast asleep and I was in the kitchen when she came in lookin' for some ice cream. She didn't tell me what the bastard said, just that he called. I knew she'd tell you all the details in the morning."

"Oh." That was all she said for a moment. She did feel better. It was silly, but there it was. "You know, I was thinking about calling him myself when you came in."

"You think that's a good idea?"

That was a very good question. "I don't know. But I have to talk to him sometime." She turned. Now facing Spike, she stared into his eyes. "He doesn't get it. And he needs to get it. Somebody has to make him see."

"I take it Red didn't exactly give him hell?"

She shook her head. "No. And I understand why." She didn't elaborate, not wanting to talk about what Willow had gone through in England. Those were her tales to tell, not Buffy's. "But somebody has to and it looks like that somebody will be me."

Her brow was furrowed and it was all Spike could bear. Bad enough that Angel and Willow went in for brooding, but he'd be thrice damned if he let it happen to Buffy. "The Watcher can wait, pet. It's too late now there, anyway. Be a shame to waste your temper on him when he's half asleep." He let his fingers creep up her leg and smirked when she giggled. Did he know how to take care of his girl or what?

"What do you think I should do instead?" she asked,all coy and innocent; it made him hard.

"I think I've got some ideas."

Well, there went Willow's idea of a movie night. She was glad she'd listened before knocking. Sheesh. Did Buffy and Spike ever do anything but…? Guess maybe they were making up for lost time. And she was one to talk, anyway. It wasn't like she and Tara hadn't spent two days barely sleeping themselves. There would have been more days like that, too, if…

If. If this, if that…

How about this for an if: If she and Angel had never kissed.

She was about to head back to her room when she realized she wasn't alone in the hall. She turned around and, sure enough, there was Angel.

"I had thought I'd ask all of you if you wanted to go out for dinner, but..."

"Yeah. I, uhh... I think they're kinda busy right now. But maybe if you wait a little while…?"

Angel snorted. "I don't think they'll be in any condition to leave the room." He looked at Willow, who was trying so hard to appear entirely innocent in the face of what was clearly happening behind the door, and he couldn't help himself. He started laughing. "Do you think they'll ever stop?"

"Umm…" But she couldn't finish, instead dissolving into a fit of giggles that made it hard for her to breathe.

It felt good to laugh, even if her sides were starting to hurt and oxygen was becoming an issue. Breathing became even more difficult when a voice called out, "Oi! You two wanna keep it down out there?"

Still laughing, Angel took Willow's arm and guided her towards the staircase and out of earshot of Spike and Buffy's quarters. His own mirth was under control before hers, perhaps because he was more used to Spike's hypocrisy, and he couldn't help but watch the way laughter transformed her face. She was…adorable.

Which was exactly the way he _shouldn't_ be thinking of her. He couldn't help it, though, despite Spike's earlier tirade still echoing in his ears. She was a lot more to him than a friend and what he'd like to be doing with her was much the same thing that Spike was doing with Buffy right now (only better…after all, he had a century's experience more than the boy).

That could never be, and he knew it, but he couldn't change how he felt. It was time to stop trying to convince himself otherwise. What he and Willow needed to do was have a frank and honest talk. Waiting for her laughter to finally die down, he asked, "Care to go out and get something to eat?"

Now the laughter was gone and uncomfortable reality returned. Dinner? Just her and Angel? Willow didn't think that was the best way to forget that she had feelings for him, but what was she supposed to do – tell him that being alone with him did nothing but remind her of how hopeless her feelings were and how stupid she was for letting herself fall for him? She didn't think that was a very good idea. So instead, she said "Sure. That sounds great. Let me just go grab a jacket, okay?"

Happily sated, at least for now, Buffy cuddled next to Spike. "You know, you're pretty darn good at cheering me up."

His answer was a smug look – pretty much what she'd expected. She'd be irritated except that his arrogance was one of the things she found most attractive about him. He looked hot when he smirked…oh, and when he did that thing where he raised one eyebrow…oh and that other thing where…

Okay, he was hot no matter what. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

It felt good, lying here beside Buffy. But one thing was nagging at him. "What the hell do you think Peaches was laughing at?"

If he'd been looking for sympathy, he'd obviously looked in the wrong place as Buffy was now giggling at him. She swatted his arm playfully. "They so weren't laughing at us." Her nose wrinkled in that cute way it did when she was thinking – not brooding – and she offered, "Maybe she was telling him about the leather pants I made her buy."

Bloody, buggering hell! Willow had better _not _have told Angel she now owned leather pants, because he knew for damn sure that his sire's response would not have been laughter. Still, it made him realize just what had been going on and it gave him a feeling of relief – best way to defuse sexual tension was to laugh it off, right? Had to be hard for those two to be standing out there hearing what was going on.

Thinking about it, he felt damn sorry for them. It reminded him yet again just how lucky he was. He pulled Buffy closer and kissed the top of her head.

"Mmmm…that's nice," Buffy purred. But she didn't try to initiate another go 'round. Probably for the best. His sire and Willow were likely still nearabouts.

Moments passed and Spike stayed silent. That wasn't like him. "What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing."

Now why didn't she believe that? Oh yeah, that would be because he was lying – he was _always _thinking. "Yeah right. C'mon, what were you thinking about?"

What could he say? "Just wondering what you might have bought on that shopping trip." He gave her a bit of a leer…and yeah, come to think of it, had she picked up any more bits of fancy lace?

She swatted him again. "This trip was for Willow." He watched as she looked thoughtful for a second or two. "Where were you anyway? I mean, when I got back."

Spike pondered his answer, but he figured he could rely on Buffy's discretion. "I was down in the garden, talkin' to a friend."

Buffy propped herself up on an elbow. "Who?"

"No one you know. Lorne."

"Lorne?" The name was sort of familiar, but she couldn't attach it to a face.

"Yeah. He's a demon. Green fella, loud suits, horns. Great guy, actually. And he can see things – psychic type things – for ya. Usually you have to sing for him, but sometimes… Like tonight. He knew about you without me havin' ta sing a note."

"Really? What did he say?"

"He told me to hang onto you this time."

Buffy grinned widely. "Guess that means he thinks I'm good for you."

"And he's right." Spike kissed her softly.

"So, when do I get to meet him?"

Spike sighed. "Don't know, pet."

"But…he's here, right?" She seemed confused and Spike knew he was going to have to tell her the whole story.

"No, he left. Doesn't want to see Angel. Leastwise not yet."

"What does he have against Angel?"

Spike was tempted to offer his sire's mangling of Barry Manilow as a reason, but this was serious, so he decided to give Buffy the straight answer. He only hoped she wasn't quite as black and white about human life as she'd once been. "Angel asked him to kill a man. And he did."

Willow sat across the table from Angel, staring down at the remains of her ravioli, wondering how a vampire who never ate seemed to know all the best restaurants. "This was delicious. Thanks."

"You're welcome." His expression was inscrutable and he said nothing further.

He'd been like this all through dinner. They hadn't even had a real conversation. Just a few words here and there. The tension was tying her up in knots. If the food hadn't been so incredible, she'd never have been able to eat it.

You know, he'd asked her out to this dinner so they could have a frank conversation in a safe, neutral environment and here he was barely speaking to Willow. Not only was his behavior counterproductive, it was downright rude. It wouldn't surprise him if his conduct had already damaged their friendship – and he wouldn't blame her if it had. "I'm sorry," he blurted out.

"What are you sorry for?" She seemed genuinely confused and that in turn confused him. After the way he'd been acting? But there she was, her expression guileless and open and questioning.

"I…" Trying to articulate a reason for anything while she was staring at him with those wide, green eyes was… He was getting tangled up in his words before he even spoke them, so he decided to stop trying to think and just let whatever words could manage the feat emerge. "We need to talk."

Hadn't they already done this? "We do?"

Guess they did because he reached across the table and took her hand. "Willow, I know you and I both said that what happened between us was just…" He paused for a moment. "It wasn't a fluke. At least not to me. And I don't think it was to you either."

Oh goddess. What was she supposed to say?

Because a big part of her was really happy that Angel had the same kind of feelings for her that she did for him.

And that was very, very bad.

Tbc…


	16. Chapter 16

Come Pouring Down Unified (Chapter Sixteen)

Willow stared into Angel's eyes for a moment, getting lost in the very obvious fact that he really did feel the same way about her that she did about him.

But she was supposed to say something back, wasn't she? Shoot. "I…ummm." Okay, if he said it out loud, she really had to as well. It wasn't fair to leave him hanging. "I have feelings for you, too."

Despite the fact that Willow's words just confirmed that they were both in an untenable position, Angel couldn't help but be happy – she cared. He cradled her hand in his, stroking it softly. "Thank you."

Was he crazy? 'Thank you'? This was bad – so, so bad. "We shouldn't be feeling like this." He sighed and she figured he saw the logic at last. "What are we going to do?"

He just kept staring at her hand – and stroking it. Willow had just asked a very good question…and one for which Angel had no answer. What _could_ they do?

It suddenly occurred to him that he'd been a selfish bastard; that what he'd done tonight had trapped her in the hell he was forced to inhabit. After all, now she'd feel guilty if she went looking for someone with whom she could have a complete relationship, or at least get her needs met the way he once had with Nina. Was it his destiny to hurt those closest to him? "I'm sorry," he said, and not for the first time tonight. "I shouldn't have said anything."

No, he shouldn't have. For a brief flash of time, Willow almost hated him. It was somehow easier when it was all misunderstandings and non-talking and… Things were so much more real when the words were spoken.

Maybe that was why she babbled. Maybe it had begun as her talisman against the nothingness that she had always feared, the very nothingness which had eventually swallowed Marcie Ross.

Funny the things you thought about when they had nothing to with what was going on.

Whatever happened to Marcie, anyway? Was she still invisible?

"What are you thinking about?" Willow started, clearly distracted before he'd asked his question. What _was_ she thinking about?

"Nothing. Not anything."

He would have chuckled at another time; her slight confusion as she spoke was so endearing. Now, though… Did she agree that he shouldn't have said anything? Did he need to apologize yet again? "You're never thinking about nothing," he said, calling her bluff.

Shoot. She guessed he was right, though she didn't know how to explain that she'd been thinking about someone who had nothing to do with their dilemma. Except that wasn't all she'd been thinking about – that was just the sidetrack. "I was thinking that I agreed with you. I kind of wish you hadn't said anything." The look on his face. She'd hurt him. She'd never meant to do that. There was more she could say – more that was just as true. "But I guess maybe a part of me is sort of glad you did."

Buffy still lay with her head on Spike's chest, her face hidden from him, listening to the silence where his heart didn't beat. That was okay, because she could hear her own.

Angel had…well…put out a hit on someone, hadn't he? A human someone.

She realized how much better she knew the man whose bed she lay in now than she'd ever known Angel. This…this killing – this wasn't anything she ever thought Angel could do. And somehow it was worse that he'd asked someone else to do it for him. "Are you… I mean, are you okay with this?" She held her breath, knowing what the answer would be and not sure she wanted to hear it.

"Yeah." Spike paused and Buffy waited. "Lindsey… He was a loose cannon, love. This was war and there's no taking chances when the world's on the line."

Only a few weeks ago, she'd have argued with him – yelled at him – but now Buffy let the explanation sink in. She guessed maybe he had a point; and maybe, too, after losing so many people you cared about, it was hard to see the life of a bad guy as being all that sacred. Thoughts of Willow after Tara's murder came to her. Grief – it made really good people do things that weren't so good.

Of course, there was also the possibility that what they'd done was the absolute right thing to do. She wasn't going to accept anything she'd learned from Giles without question any longer – so no, maybe all human life wasn't sacred after all. "This Lindsey guy? You're sure he was…"

"A wrong 'un. He could be on your side one minute and turn on you the next. He was his own bloody cause, and you know you can't trust that type." Spike wondered what Buffy was thinking right now. He stroked her hair and waited, hoping she'd say more.

"But Lorne…"

"Never killed anyone before. He agreed to do it, but then he washed his hands of us. Can't fault him. Sometimes the fight… It's hard, and ya have to do things like…"

"Die," she finished, now looking up into his face.

Oh how much it touched him that the first thing she thought of was what had gone down in Sunnydale. "Or kill."

"But he came back."

"Yeah, he did," Spike mused. Truth was that he'd been wondering about that since he'd first seen Lorne in the garden.

"Maybe he's not done with the fight after all," Buffy said.

There was more certainty in Spike's tone than the word implied when he replied. "Maybe."

There hadn't been any further conversation in the restaurant. The waiter had brought the check and Willow had watched with more than a little surprise as Angel pulled out a goodly amount of cash and paid the bill himself. Where had he gotten the money? Did he have a secret stash at the hotel? How had it stayed there safe and sound all this time? Come to think of it, how come the hotel hadn't been robbed or looted? Willow had watched the news often enough to know that you couldn't just leave buildings full of nice things unattended in Los Angeles.

Perhaps these weren't the most important matters right now. Because Angel was holding her hand again and neither of them had gotten into the car.

"What are we going to do?" She'd asked that question before, but since it hadn't been answered…

"I wish I knew." Angel stared into Willow's eyes, wanting to kiss her so badly. But they needed to talk. "I know this isn't fair to you. You deserve a relationship with someone who can give you everything and… I can't."

What was she thinking? Angel wished he knew. Her eyes were looking everywhere but into his now. "I know," she said softly before she met his gaze again. "Are you mad? I mean, because I've never been able to fix the curse? Because I've tried. Honest. But I've never found any way to…"

Putting his finger to her lips, he stopped her rambling apology. "It's not your fault."

Did he really feel that way? She hoped so, because she really _had_ tried to find a way to give Angel what he deserved – a soul that would never leave him no matter how happy he became. Unfortunately, for all the things she had the power to do, this had to be one thing beyond her grasp. "I wish…" Memory of where those words could go wrong stopped her short, but she figured Angel would know what she was about to say.

He did. "Me, too."

She was soon pulled into strong arms and she sighed against Angel's chest. "Do you think we'll do enough – ever – to atone?"

His answer was a rueful chuckle. He knew what she meant. Was this the Powers torturing him…and her? "I wish I knew." He was far from optimistic on his own account, farther now than ever. She, after all, only had the blood of one evil man on her hands. If saving the world – more than once – hadn't balanced the scales for _her_…

The warmth of her body in his arms was as much joy as he'd ever be allowed.

They parted and he opened the car door for her. "We better get home."

"Spike? I can't find Willow."

Buffy was getting a wiggins. She'd looked all over and she hadn't found Willow or Angel anywhere. Had they gone somewhere? Because it would have been nice if they'd left a note or something.

"Angel must have taken her out for a meal or something." Truth be told, Spike was a bit unnerved as well, though for different reasons than his girl was. Trust Peaches to think it was a good idea to take Willow out for some romantic candlelit dinner. What part of 'curse' did the stupid bastard not understand?

"They went out to dinner? And they didn't invite us?" She suddenly flashed back to what she and Spike had been doing until a short while ago. "Forget I said that, okay?"

Spike chuckled and wrapped his arms around her, giving her a light kiss. "Forgotten. You hungry? Because I know a place nearby. Nothin' fancy, but…"

"Nah. It's okay. There's plenty of stuff here in the fridge." Besides, she didn't feel like watching waitresses ogle her guy right now.

Despite mentioning the fridge, Buffy bypassed it in favour of the snack drawer. Doritos…mmmm. See? She wasn't old after all. She was eating Doritos for dinner.

Funny how the once-familiar junk food meal reminded her of something else. "How would you like to patrol with me?"

"Patrol?" What was she on about?

"Yeah. You know: you, me, a bunch of concealed weapons? Patrol. Like the old days."

"This isn't Sunnydale, love."

"I know. But there's demons and anyway, I want to feel useful. It's been too long."

She was trying to be all devil-may-care but Spike could see she was serious. She'd had enough of being a Slayer Emeritus. Seemed like everyone was ready to get back into the fight now – himself included. "Sounds like a plan then. Let's go see if we can rustle up anything in the way of weapons and head out."

"I'm gonna leave a note, okay?" After all, just because Angel and Willow had been thoughtless, it was no reason she should be.

"You do that. I'm gonna go poking around and see if I can't find some stakes."

"And knives," Buffy called out as she headed into the office in search of pen and paper. She was almost giddy. Patrol. It had been way too long. Now all that was left was for them to actually find something she could slay.

Even Willow could feel the emptiness of the hotel when they walked in. Funny how her power had sharpened her senses. "They're not here," she said, though she figured Angel probably already knew that.

"They probably went out to get something to eat. Like us."

"Is there anywhere around here?" she asked. After all, she and Angel had taken the car.

"Yeah. There's a place down the street. Fred always said they had," Angel's voice hitched, "really good tacos."

Against the better judgment she'd pretty much jettisoned anyway, Willow gave Angel a hug. "I wish she was here."

"Thanks." Angel kept his arms around Willow. It was strange, but acknowledging how they felt somehow made it easier to control himself…yet at the same time, he wanted her more than ever. Guess if there was anything that was never going to make sense, it was…

Oh no. Not that. Please let this not be that, not now, not so soon.

Love.

Willow stayed in Angel's arms, both content and despairing. It was funny – now that they'd owned up to their feelings, there wasn't the lack of control she'd feared before, but now… All she could think about was what they couldn't have. Why hadn't she been able to find a spell? After all, Angel had done so much good and hadn't she, too? Didn't they deserve a chance at…

No. No, no, no. She was not feeling this way. Not yet. They'd barely even become friends before she'd become attracted to him. It was way too soon for…

Love.

"Do you want any blood or anything? I was gonna go get myself something to drink, so…" Willow extricated herself with a pang from Angel's arms.

"Sure. Thanks." As much as he hated not holding her in his arms anymore, he could use a moment or two alone to get his bearings and come to terms with his thunderbolt of a realization. He watched as she walked off towards the kitchen, admiring the sway of her lithe figure, the length of her legs…and those were not things to think about if he was going to maintain the control he'd been so proud of a moment ago.

He wandered into the office. So many memories lived here. Maybe it was time to make some new ones. Everything seemed to have quieted down, nothing to show that his enemies were active. He could always start up… Huh. There was a note on the desk. Didn't take a second to recognize Buffy's handwriting.

She and Spike had gone out on patrol.

It felt like a sign – a sign that he had been right just now. It was time to start up the agency again, get back to doing good at street level – helping people, just like he – they – used to. He was tired of fancy offices and abstractions; he had a feeling that wasn't Willow's way of doing things either. She'd always cared about people – individuals.

"Here's your blood." Willow hoped she hadn't startled him; she'd sort of figured Angel would be in the office.

"Buffy left a note. She and Spike are patrolling."

Patrolling? "Really?"

"That's what she said." There was more he wanted to say, Willow could tell. She didn't prompt him, though; she held her tongue and just waited. A few seconds later her patience was rewarded as he continued. "What would you think if I started up my agency again? Would you want to…?"

Willow didn't even wait for him to finish. "I'd love to work for you." The idea of helping people while fighting evil made her almost giddy. She handed Angel his blood, glad to get it out of hands that were this close to shaking. "I could even design us a website and stuff."

Angel smiled. "You'd be more of a partner than an employee," he said while trying to tamp down the rather salacious images that came to mind when he thought of ordering her around. "I just hope that Spike and Buffy…"

"Oh gosh! I know they'll want to be part of it, too."

Running his hand over the note, Angel had to say he agreed. After all these years…he would be starting a family business. It made him wonder about the Powers That Be. Torturing him with a love he could never truly have while at the same time giving him a family and a way to hold them all together doing what they cherished most. Still, whatever their reasons, at least they gave him a carrot along with the stick. "We'll talk to them about it when they get back."

A cloud of dust surrounded Buffy and she didn't even cough. Yes! She still had it. Before tonight, how long had it been since she'd actually slayed a vampire?

"W-what was that?" The voice of the really clueless girl she and Spike had just saved broke through her thoughts.

"Bad news," Spike answered. "Didn't your mother ever warn you about letting strange men lure you into alleys?"

Buffy smothered a giggle as the girl obviously considered answering back before realizing what had just happened and nodding instead.

"Listen to her from now on then," Spike chided again. "Go home."

The girl scrambled up off the ground and beat a hasty retreat that Buffy barely noticed. Spike's words reminded her of the mother she still missed – so much…oh god so much.

"Joyce was a helluva woman," Spike said softly as he stood behind Buffy and wrapped his arms around her. Not hard to know what she was thinking.

"She was."

They stayed like that for a short while, lost in thought – Spike drowning in memories of cocoa and acceptance. What kind of a world was it when women like Joyce just up and died and bastards like Rupert Giles lived on and on?

"Guess patrolling was a pretty good idea, huh?" Buffy finally said, turning in his arms and giving him a cheeky grin. She was her mum's girl through and through; not letting pain knock her down.

"You were right, love."

"And you know, I don't think I'll ever get tired of hearing you say that." She was completely in the present now, right where her mom would want her to be.

"Think we'd better get back to the hotel now, though."

"Yeah…I guess." The truth was that she hated to see the night end. She was really enjoying patrolling. Hey, she'd saved a life tonight, and who knew how many future lives? Why had she ever seen this as a burden? When they got back to the hotel, she was going to talk to Angel and Willow. Maybe they could set something up to do some serious demon damage here in Los Angeles. After all, that vamp had seemed too darn comfortable to be the one and only baddie that needed dusting in this town.

For now, though, she took Spike's hand and started the walk back to the Hyperion, finding herself almost wanting to skip. She had her vocation back. She was a Slayer, dammit. And if she wasn't the one girl in all the world anymore, she sure felt like it tonight. That was something. That was something wonderful.

Tbc…


	17. Chapter 17

Come Pouring Down Unified (Chapter Seventeen)

"You should have seen this girl, Willow. She was way more clueless than anyone in Sunnydale. Seriously, the vamp had his teeth _in _her neck before she screamed. And she totally saw his face change first."

Willow laughed, enjoying Buffy's giddy mood. Patrolling – yeah, you know, come to think of it, it had been fun. She could still remember bringing marshmallows to roast over the demon corpses they burned. There was something about those fires…marshmallows didn't taste the same over a plain old flame.

"That bint was pretty dense," Spike agreed. "Almost not worth saving."

"Spike!" Buffy swatted him playfully. "She wasn't that bad. At least she listened to you and went home."

"We don't know that. Silly chit probably went right back to wherever she picked up that pitiful excuse for a vampire."

Buffy was about to argue again when she realized he was right. "Oh well," she shrugged. "We did our best and there's one less baddie out there. I'm putting this one in the win column." She thought for a moment and turned to Angel. "How would you guys like to join us tomorrow night? I mean, now that Spike and I have sort of figured out the nearby demon haunts, we could do an even better patrol – maybe see some real action. Just like the old days. C'mon," she wheedled, "it'll be fun."

Angel decided that now was the time to share his idea. "I was thinking of starting up the agency again."

"Wouldn't that be great? We could get paid for fighting evil!" Willow was bouncing and wore a cheerful grin and Angel couldn't help but smile at her…of course that earned him a surreptitious and blessedly brief glower from Spike. That boy needed to learn to respect his elders – or at least trust Angel. It wasn't like he could lose his soul by smiling at a girl…even if the girl was Willow.

"Wouldn't think money was much of a concern," Spike offered. For a moment, Angel was worried that meant he was turning down his suggestion, but then he said, "Still, I suppose being a bit more professional about the do-gooding wouldn't be such a bad thing. We're not in the sticks anymore."

"We'll patrol and stuff, right?" Spike put his arm around his girl; there was no one like her.

"Of course," Willow said, eager to make sure her best friend was on board. She was ecstatic at the thought of the four of them being a team. And hey, with Buffy and Spike around all the time to act as a buffer between her and Angel… Yup, that was just the ticket. She'd lick this…word-she-was-so-not-going-to-even-think in no time.

"So, what's the name of this little venture going to be?" Spike raised an eyebrow and Willow just knew he was setting himself up for a chance to complain.

As much as she sort of thought it was funny when Spike was bickering with someone, she decided to take pity on Angel and head Spike off at the pass. "I figure we should still call it Angel Investigations. I mean, people have already heard of it. Why mess with street cred, right?"

Did Willow just say 'street cred'? But back to the matter at hand: the reasoning behind keeping the old name made sense, but logic wasn't what mattered. Spike deserved at least as much billing as Peaches was getting – hell, he'd probably be doing the lion's share of the bloody work and…

Oh bugger.

Angel Investigations was where Cordelia had worked; where Wesley had worked; where Fred…

"Yeah. All right. Angel Investigations it is."

And, y'know, it would have been worth holding his tongue even if he didn't actually get the sentiment just to see Angel take that clumsy step backwards. Always fun to shake up the old sire, now wasn't it. Then he locked eyes with the man. Yeah, he guessed the fact that they'd wound up understanding each other now was somehow better.

It was a shock at first, Spike backing down on the issue of the name of the agency, but… His boy had grown up. He saw things now, cared about things – things besides Drusilla and Angelus and bloodshed. Angel should have noticed this before… Well, he'd noticed it, he supposed. But he should have thought about it, acknowledged it. Things had changed between them – at least on an emotional level – he'd been seeing it happen for awhile now. He needed to work harder at translating that into the way he reacted…and acted. It was time to stop assuming Spike would always behave the way he had in the past. "Thanks," he said without a trace of sarcasm.

Spike shrugged his shoulders and Angel understood. It wasn't any easier for him. And you know, in a strange way that somehow _did_ make it easier after all. Willow was looking at them both in a way that… Great. As if he needed a reason to lo…_care for _her more, she had to be so wise and intuitive.

Tonight felt like old times, only not. Come to think of it, it felt a lot more like the beginning of the rest of her life. Buffy hadn't felt this good in a long time…maybe ever. It was sort of like getting a do-over – only scratch the 'sort of' part. This was _all_ a do-over – Spike, her calling, even her friendship with Willow…and with Angel. Another chance to get it right.

More than anything, she wished her mom could see her now.

Speaking of her mom and being this responsible adult with…oh god…a _job_now... "Hey, do we get salaries or paid by the job, or…?"

Angel stood in the courtyard, taking advantage of the last hour or so he had of darkness, pondering whether or not he wanted to have someone come in and make repairs – turn this into a proper garden again. He had to admit to a certain fondness for what it looked like now: all broken stones and overgrown foliage. Guess that was another thing he had in common with his demon; Angelus had never done a thing to the gardens at the mansion for all that he'd made sure the house itself had all the creature comforts.

One of these days, he was going to go through all the odd and uncomfortable things he was putting off thinking about and this would be one of the first he tackled – why was it that he felt safely nostalgic now when thinking about his demon's idiosyncrasies? Why didn't a small observation lead straight into a morass of guilt over dark deeds and unimaginable evil?

But no, instead of descending into a pit of self-loathing, he was merely bemused – his mind far more thoroughly occupied by contemplating the fact that the family business was now a reality. Willow, Spike, and Buffy were now officially working with him. It made him almost giddy.

Tomorrow, Willow was going to arrange to transfer Angel's money out of her account and into a corporate one. He wondered for a moment if he ought to tell her about the other money he had, but then again, she'd probably figured it out when he paid tonight at Miceli's – or figured out enough, anyway. How did she feel, he wondered, about him using money he'd accumulated during his past?

Of course, knowing her, she hadn't batted a metaphorical eye. Buffy would be a different story, though. Probably best not to outright tell Willow anything; that way she wouldn't feel she was keeping an actual secret from her best friend.

Now _that _thought took him down the path of guilt and angst. He'd told Willow he had feelings for her and she had told him she felt the same way. How was she handling that? Should he tell her that Spike knew? Should he go to Buffy and tell her, even though nothing could ever come of those feelings? Or would that ruin this wonderful new life he was building for the four of them?

"Brooding again, I see. The more things change…" At the sound of Spike's voice, Angel whirled around.

Spike shook his head ruefully. For all his sarcasm, he did feel a bit of pity for his sire. He knew full well what Angel was thinking about; or rather, who. Sad. Dangerous, yeah, but still…sad.

"How come you're not upstairs with the girls?"

"And be watching _Thelma and Louise_? I think not. Why didn't those two pathetic bints just admit they wanted each other and shag like rabbits? Woulda been a decent flick then."

Angel shrugged, but Spike could also see him trying hard not to smirk. Knew it. Angel never could admit when he agreed with him, but he did. "So you've decided to pester me instead of Buffy and Willow?"

"If by 'pester' you mean stop you from bringing down the mood of everyone in Los Angeles with your brooding, then yeah, that's what I'm doing. 'Sides, I wanted to…" Spike stopped for a moment, not sure how what he was about to say would go over. Ah, the hell with it. "I wanted to thank you. For the whole agency thing. Buffy's excited about it and…"

"You're welcome." Angel replied. The sincerity of Spike's gratitude touched him and it moved him to reach out in return. "We're family."

If this wasn't such a serious moment, Angel might have laughed at the astonished look Spike briefly wore, but it wasn't funny in context. It made him ache, the fact that hearing those words – those two simple words – shocked Spike so completely.

"Yeah, guess we are at that." Spike pulled himself together. This had been a hell of a day for surprises, now hadn't it? And those last two words out of Angel's mouth pretty much topped them all. "Sorry about rakin' you over the coals before, about Red. I do trust you, y'know."

Angel nodded and seemed lost in thought for a moment. When he spoke…well, it wasn't exactly a surprise to hear the words. "I love her, Spike."

He was about to pop off with a smart remark, but… Oh hell, his heart wasn't in it. It felt – wrong, or something, what with him having the love of his life and unlife sitting upstairs watching a terrible movie. It wasn't bloody fair, Angel having to stand back and pine. Come to think of it, it wasn't fair to Willow, either. Not like _her_ soul had a curse on it or anything. "I know," he finally said. Because what the hell else was there to say?

And again, it wasn't a surprise when his reply was the sight of Angel walking inside.

Spike stood in the wreck of a garden for a moment, thinking about what bastards the Powers That Be were.

"So. Angelcakes is in love, huh?"

The voice coming out of the shadows gave him a shock. "Lorne? You'd have given me a bloody heart attack if my heart still worked. How'd you manage to sneak up on me?"

Lorne made a desultory gesture as he emerged from behind a bush. Guess that was all the explanation Spike was gonna get. "Sorry about that, Blondie." Lorne seemed more…himself, Spike guessed would be the right way to describe it. "Hadn't intended to make my presence known."

"I didn't tell Angel about your visit."

"Thanks." Lorne was staring at the door. Spike wondered if he was thinking of finally talking to Angel after all, but after last time, he decided not to push.

"I told Buffy, though. Can't keep secrets from my girl." Lorne raised an eyebrow at him. How the hell did the bloke know so much? "Okay, you got me. Haven't told her about Angel fancying Willow. But it's not like that's gonna go anywhere, so there's no real point in saying anything, is there?"

Lorne gave him the oddest look – even for a green demon with horns. "I…" He didn't finish the sentence, instead turning to leave.

"Lorne," Spike called out. "You'll be back, right?" There was no answer, so Spike added, "You know, Angel's started up the agency again."

But Lorne was gone.

Buffy stared at the screen, almost mouthing the dialogue along with Susan Sarandon. How many times had she watched this movie with her mom?

She distracted herself from her melancholy by turning away from the TV and facing her best friend. "Where did you and Angel go for dinner? Was it good?"

As questions went, Buffy was pretty sure this wasn't a tough one, especially not for Willow, so why the weird face and the long pause?

"We went to this place called Miceli's. The ravioli was great," Willow finally said. But if the food was so good, how come Willow wasn't smiling? Okay, yes, she was smiling, but it was fake smiling, which totally did not count.

Oh God. Insensitive much? Like she shouldn't have remembered that the whole reason Willow and Angel had gone out to eat in the first place was because… But should she say anything? Because maybe that would only rub Willow's face in it – the fact that she had the guy of her dreams and Willow was all alone. Of course, what happened next was that Buffy blundered all the more. "I guess you still miss her a lot, huh?"

Could the Earth just open up and swallow her now…please?

Willow knew full well that Buffy's question wasn't about Kennedy. It felt…weirdly good, Buffy acknowledging her grief. Maybe that was because it was easier to admit she'd felt it for so long now that she'd let Tara go. The funeral service had definitely been not of the normal, but it had been healing, all the same. Willow reached out and took Buffy's hand. "I'll always miss her. But it's okay now. I said goodbye and… She's gone. I know that. And I'm here and… Yeah, it's okay."

At least that part was absolutely true. No way was she going to talk about the stuff that _wasn't _okay; right now, her feelings for Angel were the last thing she wanted to deal with, especially since the 'L' word was fighting tooth and nail against being repressed.

"Well, now that you're going to be back on the front lines fighting evil and getting your detective on, I'm sure you'll… And that was kind of clumsy and tasteless, wasn't it? I mean, here we were talking about Tara and I… Help me out here before I stick the other foot in, okay? Because I think I'll crack a molar."

Willow gave a soft laugh. Buffy always said what she was thinking and she always led with her heart. How much Willow had missed that. "I love you. Buffy." In fact, Willow was pretty sure she'd never loved her friend more than she did right now.

"I love you, too." She took Willow's hand again. "I'm sorry. I mean about the constant pushing you to start dating and stuff. I'm gonna stop trying to rush you. I get that it'll probably be awhile, I mean what with the Kennedy thing and all." There was that weird look again. Okay, now she was really confused. Time to bite the bullet and ask some questions, because stuff was just _not_ adding up. She knew Willow had _said_ she was okay with Faith going off with him, but... "Will, are you having second thoughts? I mean about Xander?"

Infuriatingly, her cell phone rang before Willow answered. Damn it! Who was calling her? Buffy thought about letting it go to voice mail, but then it occurred to her that maybe Dawn was calling. Reaching over to the night table, she picked up the phone. Overseas number, Italian country code. She was right. It was Dawn's number. Which was good, actually, since she wanted to talk to her anyway. Now that she had a job – a career – here in L.A., it was time for a change in Dawn's living arrangements.

She motioned to Willow to stay right where she was as she answered. No way was she letting her friend weasel out of answering her questions. "Hey, Dawnie," she caroled as she hit the button on the phone and took the call. "How are ya?"

"I'm… It isn't Dawn." Buffy's face fell. Oh goody. Now it was her turn to talk to Giles.

Tbc…


	18. Chapter 18

Come Pouring Down Unified (Chapter Eighteen)

"Giles." Buffy's voice was ice cold as she hit the 'off' button on the TV remote and Willow slipped out of the room. That was okay; her friend didn't need to be in here for this. Besides, with Willow gone it would be easier to say all the things she wanted to say to her…ex-Watcher.

"Buffy, I… Well, it's good to hear your voice at long last."

Was he kidding? "Only if you've figured out a way to restore Fred's soul and put it back in her body where it belongs."

There was silence at the other end of the phone for a moment and then: "I spoke to Willow a few days ago and I gathered that…"

"You gathered wrong - not that I am too surprised. You've been doing that a lot lately."

"But Willow…"

"Felt like she owed you for helping her after…what happened when Tara died. She was afraid to tell you the truth. She shouldn't have been. Because she doesn't owe you shit." She could hear the sharp intake of breath at her burst of profanity. Tough. Giles was in for a whole lot worse. "None of us owe you anything – except maybe a one-way ticket to Hell. Fred was a good person. She didn't deserve to have her soul hollowed out of her body by some Smurf-god looking for a new place to live. And you know what else? Willow didn't deserve to take the blame for it. When you framed her, you lost any right you had to claim that you ever cared about her…about any of us."

"Buffy, I…"

"Don't. Just don't." Choking back tears, she continued. "You know, I had this whole thing planned out where I'd ask you 'why' and ask what the hell happened to you that turned you from…family into _this_ - this _thing_ you've become, but the truth is, I don't want to know. Because I don't care – not about why and not about _you_. Not anymore. Put my sister on the phone right now before I find you and show you what Warren felt like at the end of his life. And trust me – it won't be as quick or easy for you as it was for him. I'm not Willow." Never had Buffy wanted Spike's arms around her more. Her heart was breaking into pieces – but she didn't regret a single word she'd said; she only regretted having to say them at all.

She could hear the phone being set down. Seconds ticked by, each one longer than the last. Was she going to be able to hold it together long enough to get through barking some orders at Dawn? God she hoped so.

After what seemed like eons, Dawn finally picked up. "Buffy? What did you say to Giles? Because he was totally crying and…"

Buffy cut her off and got right down to business. "I'll tell you all about it when you get here. Right now I need you to go pack your bags and get on the next flight to Los Angeles, okay?"

"But…"

"Dawn, I don't have time to explain right now. But I will when you get here. I promise. Now go pack and get on a plane. I'll pay you back for the ticket when you get here." She could feel Dawn about to plead poverty but there was no way she was using Giles's credit card again. Besides… "I know darn good and well that you've been hoarding all kinds of cash by getting Andrew to buy you things instead of paying for them yourself, so just buy the ticket."

Dawn humphed, but finally grumbled, "Okay, fine. But you better tell me everything when I get there." There was a pause and Buffy thought Dawn was hanging up, but then Dawn spoke again. "I know something happened with you and Giles and… You should have told me. I'm not a baby, you know."

Her sister had a point; Buffy had to acknowledge that. "I know. And I'm sorry. Everything was happening at once and…"

"So I'm old enough to hear about an apocalypse but not about anything else?"

"You're right. I should have told you everything. And I will."

"You better."

Buffy's voice almost gave out as she said, "I love you. Call me when you know what time your flight gets here."

"I love you, too." And again it seemed like the end of the call before Dawn asked one last question. "Am I supposed to hate Giles now?"

Maybe she was a horrible person for this, but Buffy answered, "Yeah." What would Mom think of her right now?

"Okay. See you soon." Then there was a click and the call was really over. Buffy was almost stunned by how much faith her sister had in her, how readily she took her side, accepted what she said and took it as truth. If she'd ever needed proof that Dawn _was_her sister, no matter how that had come about…

But what Buffy really needed right now was Spike. Feeling a flood of tears ready to burst forth, she rushed downstairs to try to find him.

Willow sat in her room staring at the TV – which might have been more interesting if she had bothered to turn it on.

Boy had tonight been a roller coaster. Angel having feelings for her, her own feelings insisting they were something she hadn't felt since Tara, a brand new job doing what she felt was as much her calling as it was Buffy's, Giles calling again… It was all so up and down and sideways that she would have sworn her head was spinning except that her neck wasn't broken.

And then there was lying to Buffy. Well…maybe not so much _lying _as not telling her stuff, but still… It was wrong. It was everything she wasn't supposed to be as a friend; it was everything that had started them down the road to the alienation that had taken her to Brazil and Buffy to Italy and reduced their contact to infrequent phone calls.

Funny thing was, it had started so long ago.

It had started with Tara – with not telling Buffy about Tara until Oz came back. Why had she done that? Why had she kept it a secret for so long? Sure, it was easy to rationalize it then: Buffy wouldn't understand, it was all so new… But it was wrong. After all, Buffy had, after an awkward minute or so, been understanding and accepting. It would have been the same if she'd told her earlier, and that wasn't the point anyway. The point was that friends didn't keep secrets. Because once you started… It led to badness, like when Buffy came back hurting and lost and she never once felt she could talk to Willow.

Okay, she could remember other secrets, secrets Buffy had been the one to keep, but that also was beside the point. Because this was about Willow and what Willow shouldn't do – and what she shouldn't do was keep secrets. Not anymore. It wasn't fair to leave Buffy stumbling in the dark, wondering what was wrong, trying to help fix things without knowing what needed fixing.

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Once she and Buffy had talked about Giles's call, and once she was sure Buffy was okay, Willow was going to tell her the truth about what was really tying her up in knots. Then she would just have to hope that she still had a best friend.

"I'm proud of you," Spike said as he held tight to his sobbing lover. If he hadn't hated Rupert Giles before this… That bastard had hurt his girl, and that was _not _allowed.

"I told… I told Dawn she should hate him," Buffy choked out through her tears.

"And she should. That bastard stood by and let an innocent woman die…and he foisted the blame off on Willow. Gave some ridiculous excuse so we'd all think Red didn't care. Once Dawn knows that… Well, she won't need your permission to hate the bastard. She'll hate him all on her own."

No answer right away from the girl he was holding, but he could feel her relax slightly, the tension in her muscles decreasing. That was good.

Who knew cold arms could be this warm? Because right now? Being held by Spike? Buffy felt safe and loved; she felt like she'd done the right thing and maybe, just maybe, everything was going to be okay. Spike had a magic that was every bit as powerful as Willow's. "I love you," she said softly, figuring it pretty much covered the whole 'thank you' speech running through her head.

"Love you, too, pet. And I meant what I said. I'm proud of you, giving Rupert what for. He more than deserved it. Maybe, hearing it from you this way…he'll hurt. He'll hurt the way he _should _hurt."

She could tell he was thinking of the agony Fred had gone through and she reached up and stroked his cheek. "I told him the only way it would be good to hear his voice was if he'd found a way to bring Fred back."

That meant the world to Spike and he leaned down to give Buffy a soft kiss. "Thanks for that."

She snuggled against him but then – so suddenly that she almost knocked him over – she pushed him away and shrieked, "Oh God! Dawn's gonna be here in…," she paused and her brow wrinkled with thought, "…well, soon. There's no room ready for her and…Oh my gosh! I didn't even ask Angel!"

Spike chuckled at her panic, though he supposed she had a point. He decided to be gallant. "You go break the news to Peaches and I'll see about making one of the other rooms fit for human habitation."

"Really?" Her face lit up. Bloody hell, if it made her smile like that, he might clean more often. Willow had been right; he was bloody domesticated, wasn't he?

"Yeah, pet. I'll get a room fixed up right for the Niblet."

You know, Buffy needed a word for something bigger than gratitude, because right now that's what she was feeling. "I'll go tell Angel." She was about to leave the office when she remembered something. "You don't think he'll be mad, do you? I mean, he never liked Dawn…at least I _remember_ it that way and…"

"Don't worry about it, love. Not like he hasn't put up with worse. If he can _shag_ Darla, he can bloody well live in the same building as Dawn." Okay, there were some obvious issues there, and Buffy was going to ask about them someday.

Not now, though. For now, she bounced once on her toes to steady her nerves, gave Spike a quick "okay," and headed back upstairs to break the news that the quartet was about to not be quite so quartet-y anymore. But hey, that could be good, couldn't it? After all, Angel Investigations could probably use a receptionist-type person and that was so the perfect job for Dawn. Plus, Dawn was really good with translations – heck, she was the only one of them besides Spike who knew Fyarl.

Yeah, she'd base her sales pitch on how useful Dawn could be…and she'd promise that Dawn had grown up a whole lot since the days when she'd threatened to put glue in Angel's hair gel. She had…hadn't she?

A couple of seconds later, Buffy was at Angel's door. Here goes nothing.

But just as she was about to knock, sounds from the door stopped her short. Angel was moaning…and not 'in pain' moaning either.

Quickly reaching out with those Slayer senses that always came in handy, she could tell that Angel was alone. Now would be the time to walk away and give Angel his privacy, because that's what a decent, non-creepy-voyeur-type person would do. So, okay, she would leave…she would…any moment now.

But Buffy's feet refused to move. Sue her, she was sort of curious. Who was Angel thinking about? Was it that werewolf chick?

Oh God…he wasn't thinking about _her_, was he?

She should leave. Because if he was thinking about… But she wanted to know. And if Angel was always the way he had been the one and only time they'd made love, he'd be calling out a name when he reached the finale, so…

Yeah, she waited, listening to him moan and feeling creepier by the second. Willow wasn't the only one whose sexual proclivities she had to worry about, it seemed.

And speaking of… "Willow," came a soft cry from behind the door.

Buffy could almost feel her jaw hit the floor and she couldn't have moved if she wanted to. Willow. Angel wanted Willow.

And suddenly things made so much more sense now: Willow's weird behavior; the way Angel kept smiling at her tonight; the solo dinner (okay, maybe that was partly because she and Spike had been…busy, but still…).

Angel had a thing for her best friend…and maybe Willow had a thing right back.

How did Buffy feel about that?

Oddly, it wasn't as tough to accept as she'd thought it was going to be a second or two ago. All right, there was the fact that neither of them had ever, as far as she knew, been interested in someone like the other before. It wasn't as if Willow was much like Buffy and all she had in common with Drusilla was magic. The only thing Angel had in common with Oz was silence (and maybe a fondness for hair products) and he was _nothing _like Tara, even if you didn't factor in the different gender thing.

But you know, they did seem sort of… Oh no. Yeah, they seemed perfect for each other and that was as awful as anything had ever been - ever. Because there was still that horrible curse.

Poor Angel…and poor Willow, who Buffy, in fact, felt sorrier for. Angel was used to being broody and alone, but Willow? This sucked.

Finally able to move, Buffy figured she'd wait and tell Angel about Dawn's imminent arrival in a little while. Right now, she wanted to talk her best friend. So she hurried down the hall and knocked on Willow's door.

Immediately after the first knock, she wondered if maybe she should have waited and thought about what she was going to say first but…too late now. She'd just have to wing it.

Willow opened the door, surprised by the familiar tapping on her door. "Buffy." She hadn't expected to see her friend right now; she'd sort of assumed Buffy would be with Spike. "How was the talk with…?"

"Fine. Except for the part where… well, all of it, really. But that's not what I came to talk to you about. At least not right now."

Willow stepped back, letting Buffy into the room. There was a knot of foreboding in her stomach, though she wasn't sure why. Oh goddess. Buffy was giving her 'but' face and the knot turned into a hangman's noose. "What is it?" she asked, grateful she had at least managed not to stutter.

Buffy closed the door behind her. Willow looked scared and that…that was not of the good. Guess she had figured out that Buffy knew – or she had that guilty conscience thing, which she didn't deserve to feel. Time to let her know there was nothing to fear. So Buffy sat down on Willow's bed, patting the space next to her. She hoped Willow would accept the invitation. When she did, Buffy turned to her, and in a soft voice that she hoped was understanding and totally non-threatening, she asked, "When were you gonna tell me about you and Angel?"

She wondered if her own jaw had looked like Willow's a few minutes ago at Angel's door. "It's okay, Will. I'm not mad. I'm really not. I just wish… But I guess I understand why you didn't tell me."

Eyes filling with tears, all Willow could do for a few seconds was stare. Then…"But…how did you…I mean…?"

"I heard about it from Angel."

Angel? "He told you?"

With a surprisingly red face, Buffy answered, "Ummm… he didn't _tell_ me, I mean, not exactly. I went to his room to tell him something only he was…uh…busy… and I kind of…heard-him-call-out-your-name-when-he-came."

Scarily, Willow understood every run-together word. Oh god. Angel had been fantasizing about her when he… Wow. Cool down, sidetrack girl. Now was not the time for her to be mooning over the fact that Angel thought about her when he was pleasuring himself – but yeah, it was really kind of…well…_neat_. Right at the moment, though, she needed to focus on Buffy. "Are you sure you're not mad? Because I was gonna tell you. Honest. In fact that's what I was thinking about doing when you knocked." All she could do was hope Buffy believed her. It was the truth, after all.

Buffy pulled her friend into a hug. "I know. I figured you were waiting for the right time. But I also figured you could really use a friend. I mean, there is the curse and all and… Oh, Willow. I'm really sorry. For both of you. But mostly you. You deserve…well, you deserve the whole package."

She gave a soft laugh as she let go of Willow. "And you know what really sucks? Now you can't wear those leather pants. Because if Angel saw you in those…" She was trying for humour, but Willow wasn't laughing.

"I didn't mean for this to happen. And I know it's probably weird for you, what with you and Angel..."

Was Willow worried about that? "He and I are so over. I have Spike now and he has my whole heart, every bit of it, okay? So you don't have to worry about that. The only thing that upsets me is that stupid curse. I want you to have someone who can give you everything and Angel…"

"Can't. I know. We both know, believe me. No matter what I've tried or where I've looked, I've never been able to find any way to fix that happiness clause. I have tried, you know? Since way back when I did the curse the first time."

"I'm so sorry." Buffy couldn't think of anything else to say.

They sat in silence for a moment, Willow marveling at how, just like when it came to telling the truth about Tara, she had underestimated Buffy. Her friend had come through – again. Now it was time to be a friend back. "How did things go with Giles?" she asked again, figuring this time Buffy would be ready to talk.

"You mean the part where I told him to go to Hell?" Her tone was flip, but there were tears in Buffy's eyes now and Willow knew that her heart was breaking.

"I'm sorry that you ended up having to be the one to…"

"Don't be. I'm glad it was me. Yeah, it hurt, but… Is it weird of me to think I'd have felt cheated if you'd done it?"

Come to think of it, it didn't seem weird to Willow at all. Giles had once been more of a father to Buffy than her own had ever been. Buffy had the right to be the one to deal the fatal blow to their relationship. Especially considering how much she'd had to hold back in London when they were more concerned with getting information…and that credit card. "He still doesn't get it, huh?"

"I never asked, actually. I don't care. It's too late for that." Buffy sighed and looked off into nowhere for a long moment. Then it suddenly occurred to her that Willow needed to know something. "I told Dawn to hop the first flight here."

"Dawn's coming?" Willow sounded excited and it brought a much-needed smile to Buffy's face.

"Yep. Spike is cleaning a room for her now."

Willow was so happy. It would be great to see Dawn again, she'd missed her. But… "Does she know – about you and Spike, I mean?"

Oh great. Buffy had forgotten that there was yet another thing she needed to tell Dawn. The ride from the airport was going to be so much fun. "Not yet, but I'm gonna tell her when I pick her up." She felt like she was about to walk the plank. Between everything she needed to talk to Dawn about and…Wait a minute, there was one thing she could get out of. "Would you mind if I asked you a really big favour?"

Willow stared and Buffy giggled at the fear in her eyes. "Umm…sure. What is it?"

"Could you tell Angel? I mean, that Dawn will be living here now?"

It was clear that Willow had the same memories of Dawn and Angel bickering. "Oh sure. Use me to break the bad news."

"Well, considering the fact that you just gave him a happy, I think he'll take it better from you."

"Buffy!" This time Willow was the one turning red. But gosh was she glad her friend could joke about it. "Okay. I'll go tell him." She got up and then turned back and asked. "He is…done, right?"

Buffy burst into a fit of giggles "Go!"

Willow left to break the news.

Tbc…


	19. Chapter 19

Come Pouring Down Unified (Chapter Nineteen)

Okay. Here Willow was - standing in front of Angel's door. Time to knock, right? And no, she was _not_hoping he was naked when he let her in.

Well…not _really_.

Especially since the part of her brain that worked properly reminded her that none of this was good. His feelings for her were making him suffer and her feelings for him were making _her_ suffer and it was all just a big, horrible, painful mess. Wouldn't seeing what she could never have just make it worse…for them both?

She really wished she hadn't said yes when Buffy asked her for this favour, but it was too late now. Lightly and tentatively, she knocked on the door.

"Come in," Angel said when he finally heard her knock. Willow had been standing at his door for what felt like eternity (but was probably only a minute or so).

"Hi," she said, walking in nervously. Why was she nervous?

"Hi." He watched as she looked around, eyes darting everywhere, but not willing to settle on him. This made no sense. "What's wrong?"

She started slightly at the question. Oh gosh. "Nothing. Nothing's wrong. I just… Buffy asked me to tell you something." Memories of Dawn sticking her tongue out at Angel came to mind. He was not going to be happy about her news. "It's… Dawn, you know, Buffy's sister? She's gonna be here in, oh, maybe twelve hours or so."

Judging from the look on Angel's face, he had the same memories she did. "Dawn?"

If she and Angel were still mere friends, the barely concealed horror on his face would have made her laugh – just the way she remembered doing when he and Dawn would bicker way back when. She wasn't laughing now. "Buffy invited her. It's… Giles called – from Italy. He was right there in Dawn's apartment. She has to get away from him and…where else is she going to go?"

Willow had a point, he supposed. It certainly wouldn't do to leave the girl in the clutches of Rupert Giles. Anyway, she had to be more mature now than she had been when last he saw her, didn't she? "I understand." Something occurred to him. "Why didn't Buffy tell me herself?" It wasn't as if she…

"She knows. About us."

Angel's eyes went wide. Buffy knew? But… "How?" The scarlet now suffusing Willow's features gave him a clue. Oh God. Just a short while ago, he had been… How to ask this delicately: "Did Buffy…?"

Nodding her head, Willow stammered out, "She kind of heard…" Curiosity then got the better of her. "So…you really think of me, when…?"

Chuckling in a way that went straight to the wrong part of Willow's anatomy, Angel answered. "Oh yeah." Then he seemed to come back to his senses and his demeanour returned to its normal circumspection. Darn…no _good_. That was good. "How did she take it?"

"She was fine, actually. I think she might have even had an easier time with this than when…" Willow's mind went back to the day she'd sort of backhandedly let Buffy know that she and Tara weren't just doing spells together all those nights. "She feels bad that we can't…you know, have a real relationship. But she's not mad."

The moment she said the word 'relationship', she was suddenly struck by the realization that she and Angel hadn't really talked about this…whatever it was. Yeah, they'd admitted to strong feelings for each other and Angel had… But that didn't really give any definition to what was going on between them and their conversation in the parking lot had gone nowhere. Time to try again. "What are we going to do?"

Angel instantly understood that Willow's question had nothing to do with Buffy or Dawn. "I don't know," he answered, and it was the truth. He knew what he _should_ do: tell Willow to forget him, to try dating other people. But he was selfish, and though she wasn't a teenage girl anymore – she was a woman with a woman's needs and appetites – he found himself hoping that she'd try and maintain some kind of eternally sexless romance with him anyway.

Which was exactly what he'd left Sunnydale so as not ask of Buffy. He hadn't experienced loss then the way he had now, though; hadn't been ripped open and left bleeding by the death of people who had become, all unwittingly, a part of his being.

Guess that explained his willingness to endure Dawn Summers, as well. Anything to keep the other two members of his new family from decamping for other quarters.

"We should probably talk about this later," Willow finally offered after a long and awkwardly silent moment or two. "Are you okay? I mean, with Dawn being here."

"I'll have to be, won't I?" The seriousness of Angel's tone and expression were too much. Willow finally giggled. "What?" he asked, staring at her.

"It's just… Wow. You really don't like Dawn much, do you?"

How to answer that in a way that didn't make him seem as childish as Dawn was. "No." That was short and to the point, wasn't it?

"She's not that bad these days. I promise. Anyway, I'll make sure she doesn't do anything horrible to you."

Angel raised an eyebrow at Willow, but he let the matter go. Besides, now that he gave the matter a little thought, Dawn might even be sort of useful when it came to the business. They'd need someone to answer the phones and file and things like that. A salary and a job might be enough to bribe her into staying out of his hair…literally. "I'm sure we'll get along just fine."

Buffy wandered downstairs. Spike was still cleaning Dawn's room – that was easy to tell from the curses she'd heard when she emerged into the hall. Should Dawn be sleeping in a room so close to theirs? Oh well, that could be changed later and besides, she and Spike were a lot quieter now.

They were, right?

Something more to worry about. Between how to explain everything to her sister, how Dawn would get along with Spike, not to mention Angel… Why didn't Slayer powers include immunity from headaches? Because right now Buffy thought her skull was going to explode – just like the Gentlemen. Could she just say "Eww" and hope that at least people remembered that _her_ teeth were clean and white and pretty?

She thought about going online on the computer in the office, but quickly vetoed the idea. Maybe she was weird, but computers and the internet had never really held much fascination for her. Dawn had tried to get her to play some games, but it was hard to enjoy them when you were too busy critiquing the lack of realism in the violence. Occupational hazard of being a Slayer, she guessed. But what it all boiled down to was that Willow was in no danger of losing her geek crown.

So, given that she wasn't all that hungry either, it seemed like the only real option for Buffy right now was to do a bit of exploring. She'd start with the garden in back.

Sheesh. And here she'd thought the gardens at the mansion were in disrepair by chance. Was this Angel's idea of landscaping? Willow needed to have a talk with him. But before she could start mentally going at the branches and vines with an imaginary weed whacker, her spider sense started tingling. "Who's there?"

A bizarre green demon taking some huge fashion risks stepped out from behind a clump of foliage. Oh. This had to be Lorne, right? Better not go full-on ready-for-battle, huh. "Are you Lorne?" she asked, still sort of wary.

"That would be me, sweet cheeks." He looked a bit disappointed. "You know, I'm not doing as well with the aura cloaking and all as I thought I was."

"I'm sure it's not you. After all, I'm a Slayer. I kind of have advanced detection skills." Given everything she knew about what he'd gone through, a little reassurance seemed to be in order.

Lorne waved off her explanation. "No, it's me. I'm too emotionally unstable."

He didn't seem exactly hysterical to Buffy, but she didn't know him well…or at all, to be honest. She decided to let the matter drop. There was something she was wondering, though. "Are you here to talk to Angel?"

He shook his head and Buffy could tell he was about to leave. You know, enough was enough. Time to fix things. "Look. I know what happened. Spike told me – he told me everything. And it was hard, I get it."

Before she could say more, Lorne interrupted. "I appreciate this and all and I know you mean well, but…"

Think, Buffy. Or don't. Just talk. "Did you know I had to send Angel to Hell?" Lorne's posture slackened a bit and it looked like he was listening. Good. "I loved him, you know. I loved him with all my heart. But it was Angel or the world and I had to do the hardest thing I had ever done. I killed the man I loved." Lorne was staring now. "And then my best friend, the friend I love more than anything – Willow – she got lost. She got lost in grief and rage so powerful that they made her try to end the world. I thought I was going to have to kill her. I was terrified that was the only way to save… And I would have. It would have destroyed me inside, but I was ready to do it."

She approached Lorne, letting him see the sincerity in her eyes. "What we do…it's not easy. If it were easy, everyone would be fighting evil. It's hard. And it costs. Sometimes the cost seems to be more than we can pay, but we do it. We do it, and we cry, and then we get up and we do it all over again. Because it's worth it. Saving the world is worth it, even when it hurts, even when it would be so much easier to die than to do what we do." Those last words came from hard experience and she hoped he understood that. Taking a breath, she paused before saying the last thing she needed to. "I know that what Angel asked you to do… I know it was hard, so hard. But I know Angel, and if he could have asked anyone else to do it, he would have. He asked you because it had to be you, and because he knew you cared enough to put the world first."

Willow wanted to get started on transferring Angel's money out of her account and designing a website and Angel, who was now far too keyed up to sleep, decided to join her in the office. It was fascinating to watch her work, the way her face constantly changed expression – seemingly with every tap of a key or click of the mouse. And when she began muttering in an unknown tongue, he could feel the crackle of her magic.

Yeah, it was a turn-on.

"There!" she said a moment later. "The money's all yours now." He could tell she wanted to say something about his distinct failure to evince a sense of urgency about this particular task, but she held back.

Someday soon, he decided, he'd tell her all about his other assets. But today… They hadn't even been able to have a conversation about their relationship. It seemed unlikely that this was a good time to discuss his wealth and where it had come from. "Thank you."

"It's about time I did this. It's your money, after all." Another awkward pause and then she surprised him. "I know you have other money. I mean, I kind of figured it out when you paid for dinner and stuff and… I just want you to know it's okay. Whoever you were when you made it, it's who you are now that matters. And you might as well use it. It doesn't make anything better, just sitting somewhere. At least now you're doing good and helping people and…yeah, it's okay."

From the look on Angel's face, Willow figured she'd made a good decision, saying something now. It was pretty obvious that he'd been worried she'd be mad or something, though she wasn't sure why. If anyone understood about things not being black and white, it was her. Look at her power. She hadn't built up all of it during the most ethical time of her life, but it was hers now and she used it for good things so… "I really am okay with it. And you should be, too. It's not like anything Angelus did is your fault."

Maybe this was a stupid thing to do, but she was thinking with her heart anyway, so she stood up from her seat at the desk and went to Angel. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close. The feel of his lips against her hair… Thoughts of the money and of rationales were all gone.

It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair at all. Willow had done her best to atone for every terrible thing she'd ever done; so had Angel. Okay, maybe she didn't deserve to be happy, but Angel did. It wasn't right for him to have to spend the rest of his unlife settling for casual sex and heartache. "I'm gonna keep looking," she said. "There's gotta be a spell somewhere, someplace I haven't looked yet."

Angel listened, hearing more than the words. Something about the sound of her voice when she spoke… She felt the same way he did; he knew it. "I love you." He spoke softly, but he knew she heard him. She was looking up into his face, her eyes faintly shining with a trace of tears.

"I love you, too," she said. She sounded so surprised as she said it, as if she hadn't had a clue that he felt the same. Leaning down, his lips met hers.

It was just supposed to be a small kiss, a tenderness, an acknowledgment of feelings shared.

It didn't stay that way.

The kiss turned passionate and needy within a moment. They held each other close, hands moving over each other's backs, moaning into each other's mouths. This was dangerous, but neither of them made any move to end it. It felt too good and too right.

But like all good things, it did, in fact, have to end after all.

"Hi, guys." Buffy's voice hit Willow like a shower of cold water. She figured it had the same effect on Angel because he let go of her at the same time she did him and they both whirled around to face their friend.

"Buffy, I…it wasn't…we weren't…"

"It's okay," Buffy said, and she meant it, though she had to admit it was weird seeing Angel hold Willow like that. It made it all much more real…and it also made her heart hurt more for them both. She knew all too well what it was like to be so close and yet… Yeah, this sucked. But at least she had something good to offer. "I'm sorry I barged in like this, but I…uh…I kinda needed to tell Angel something, so…"

"What is it?" Angel asked, rather wary of Buffy's news given recent events.

"There's someone here who wants to see you."

And with that, the someone entered the office, the someone Angel had thought he would never see again.

"Hey there."

It was Lorne.

Tbc…


	20. Chapter 20

Come Pouring Down Unified (Chapter Twenty)

Angel could hardly believe his eyes. Lorne was here. He'd been sure after what he'd asked of him that Lorne was gone forever. "It's good to see you," he said.

Lorne shrugged. Not a big surprise; it wasn't as if Angel expected him to feel the same way. He was just grateful Lorne was willing to see him, to maybe give him a chance to explain. "I'm sorry," Angel offered, not sure how much he wanted to say in front of Buffy.

Lorne held up an elegant, green hand as if to stop him from going any further. "It's okay. The lovely Slayer already made your case for you. And much better than you would have, if you don't mind my saying so. You're not exactly known for your eloquence, Angel food."

Buffy winced as Lorne spilled the beans. "Spike sort of told me about…what happened," she said sheepishly. This was so not the way she wanted Angel to learn that she knew, although, under these circumstances, how could she have prevented it? You know, as much as not thinking usually worked for her, it did have its drawbacks. One of these days she'd figure out how to think and not think at the same time.

"Thank you," Angel said. He meant it. If she was responsible for Lorne being here…no, he didn't mind at all that she knew. Funny how, even with the last battle over, she'd ended up coming to the rescue.

Willow had stood silent, watching this all unfold. She knew how close Lorne had been to Fred. "I'm sorry, too," she said softly. "I promise I would have come if I'd known about…"

And again, up went one expressive hand. "I know that." His eyes met hers and she could tell that he meant it. But the pain was still deep and it hurt to see.

She watched as he turned to Angel and said, "Look, we're… Anyway, you saved the world and you're doing good and… I want to be a part of that. Again. Not like you can't use the help. No offense, but the last few decisions you've made… Well, some of them have been fine," he indicated Willow with a nod, "But…" He shrugged again, even as Willow fought to keep from blushing. Guess Lorne had seen the kiss.

Angel was taken slightly aback by the offhand reference to his love for Willow. But then again, he guessed Lorne must have seen them kiss…or just read him. It wasn't as if he'd need to sing – his feelings for Willow were strong enough for Lorne to read even when not set to music. "We'd be glad to have you as part of the agency," Angel said, ignoring everything else. He marveled anew at how Lorne always seemed to forget that Angel's curse made love a very bad thing for him.

"Somebody will have to keep an eye on things while you play kissy-face with Witchiepoo, that's for sure."

"There won't be much of that," Angel replied.

"We're doing our best to keep it to a minimum," Willow offered, ignoring Buffy's raised eyebrow.

With that, Lorne fixed her with a puzzled stare that was…well…_puzzling_. "No need to make with the modesty, doll. Now that Angel's little 'problem' isn't actually a problem anymore…" But just when Willow was about to worry that maybe Lorne saw something she didn't and she was really another Nina after all, Lorne said more. "I mean, we all know that the big guy now possesses a permanent soul. I'm sure you two have been getting as happy as your imaginations will allow…just feel free not to tell me about it. No offense, cupcake, but …"

"What do you mean 'permanent soul'?" Angel interrupted, not understanding what the hell Lorne was talking about. "I don't…"

His voice trailed off. Lorne was staring at him with a mixture of shock and incredulity. "You didn't know? It's a good thing you're good-looking, Angelcakes, because in the brains department…" Lorne sighed heavily."Honestly, did you really think the Powers weren't going to give you _something_ after…everything?"

"Are you sure?" Willow seemed as confused and stunned as Angel himself.

"You really didn't know, did you? Either of you…" Lorne stood for a moment, obviously trying to understand.

Willow just stood, slack-jawed and silent, trying to make sense of what Lorne had just told them. Angel's soul was…permanent?

"Wow. That's…wow." Buffy wished she'd been a little more eloquent, what with now apparently having a rep to live up to in Lorne's estimation, but she couldn't find any words. Maybe they were under the couch or behind the refrigerator or something. She'd have to look for them later. Right this second all she could think about was that apparently – finally – Angel could be happy…and so could Willow.

And you know? It made _her _happy, too - even happier than Spike already made her. Who knew that there would come a time when she would be rejoicing that Angel was in love with her very best friend and that they could have the life together that Buffy and Angel had been denied?

Still, _as_ Willow's best friend, she wanted to protect her. "You're sure about this?" she asked, staring intently at Lorne and not really caring that he seemed offended.

"It's as plain as the scowl on your face, cupcake," Lorne shot back and now Buffy was the one who was offended. Hey! She'd been through the mill with Angelus and nobody wanted to see him turned loose on Willow less than she did…except maybe Willow.

"Thank you," Angel said, his voice soft and indistinct. He was still trying to wrap his mind around the fact that his soul was…his. Strange how now that Lorne said it, he could feel the difference. Things he'd ascribed to everything he'd been through leading up to the battle and then in its aftermath now shone as clear signs that he was whole: his willingness to so readily open up to friendship and family; the intensity of his feelings for Willow and his merely token resistance to them; his easy willingness to use the money he'd made as a demon; even his motivation for reopening the agency – which was more about altruism than redemption this time. "It's true. It's really true," he said to no one in particular.

Willow didn't hear him. She was too caught up in her own thoughts when she finally figured out something to do. She closed her eyes, muttering words in a tongue whose name she'd forgotten, and waited. When she opened her eyes, she could see it – the shining gold in Angel's aura that verified what Lorne had just told them.

Stupid, stupid Willow! Why hadn't she just done this in the first place? And okay, it had never actually occurred to her since she had no reason to think that Angel's soul was suddenly secure, but… Stupid, stupid Willow. "I can see it," she said, realizing that everyone was staring at her. Guess it was easy for a bunch of supernatural types to tell she was using magic, huh?

"What do you mean?" Buffy asked. "You mean you can see that…"

"That his soul is secure, yeah." She went to Angel and took his hand. "I'm so sorry. I know I should have done this sooner."

Angel was incredulous. "You didn't know."

"I'm with Angel, Will. It's not like you had any idea you should even check. None of us did."

Nodding to his ex, Angel held Willow's hand in his, gazing into her eyes. "I'm just glad we know now."

Lorne seemed to be growing peevish at being excluded and Angel addressed him once again. "I really appreciate…"

"It's nothing." But clearly it wasn't anything of the kind and Angel knew he owed Lorne for this.

"We should probably go say hi to Spike," Buffy said to Lorne, trying – clumsily, yes, she got that – to give Willow and Angel a little privacy, though she kinda doubted they'd be staying downstairs. Still, it wasn't like she expected them to announce their intentions in front of her and Lorne. They deserved a little dignity.

Taking Lorne's shiny-fabric-enswathed arm, Buffy all but dragged him out of the office and to the staircase. "Boy, you're a take-charge gal," Lorne said. He was smiling though and Buffy gave him a toothy grin in exchange.

"You got it. Now let's go see how Spike's doing. He's been cleaning out a room for Dawn to sleep in."

"Spike's doing housework?" Lorne asked, the shock clearly evident in his voice. "This I've gotta see. Lead on, Slayercake."

Despite being alone again, Willow and Angel didn't say anything to each other for what seemed like forever.

Finally though, Willow spoke up. "I guess there's stuff we should talk about now, huh?" She was shifting her weight from foot to foot and the crackle of magic of a few moments ago was a fading memory. Once again Angel was confronted with the paradox that made her so alluring to him – power and fragility all woven into one amazing woman.

"Would you be more comfortable if we talked upstairs? In case Buffy and Lorne want to come back down here or anything?"

"Okay," she said and he took her hand, leading her out of the office, though rather less forcefully than Buffy had done with Lorne a few moments ago.

It seemed the blink of an eye passed before they were in Angel's room; Willow couldn't even remember coming up the stairs. The click of the door closing seemed almost deafening and – oh goddess – were her palms actually sweating? "So…talk. That's what we're doing, right? Talking? Because that's what people do, they…mmmph."

Angel's mouth was on hers before she could finish her sentence – not that she minded. As wonderful as their kisses had been before, those didn't hold a candle to what she was experiencing now. No guilt, no fear…it made everything even better. "I love you," she breathed when Angel's mouth left hers at last.

"I love you, too," he replied before he found something even better to do with his lips. He trailed them down to her neck, tongue darting out to taste her skin along the way.

She was incredible. Now that there was nothing standing between them, Angel could allow himself to truly experience touching her, holding her, tasting her, and he realized that Willow was even better than his fantasies.

Never, not in his life or unlife, had he wanted anyone as much as he wanted Willow.

Not even Buffy.

Willow moaned as Angel's hands moved over her breasts and began to unbutton her shirt. She felt a kind of desire that was different from anything she'd felt before. That was…comforting – which was weird, but good. It made this okay – loving someone again, _being_ with someone completely again, someone who wasn't Tara. This wasn't anything like what she'd shared with her girl and that was a blessing beyond anything for which she could have hoped. It allowed her to just give herself over to her passion and not reach out for the memory she'd laid to rest so recently. "I want you," she said, gazing into Angel's eyes.

He smiled. It was a sensual, tempting smile. "You'll have me."

"So," Buffy asked brightly, "How do you think it's going? Willow and Angel, I mean?"

Spike's eyes were wide as he stared at her. He loved Buffy with all his heart and soul, but sometimes he wondered about her. "If I know Peaches, the moment you two left, he had her knickers off, bent her over the desk, and…"

"Spike!" Buffy swatted him on the arm. "Don't you think maybe they're talking things out? Not everybody is…"

"Like you?" he finished for her, enjoying the way she reddened in Lorne's presence. But his point was well-made and she knew it. Chit gave him barely more than 48 hours before she pulled out all the stops. He almost felt sorry for himself; he'd been helpless against her wiles.

Not that he regretted it, mind. Ah, that pink lace. Besides, he'd learned well that talking wasn't everything. A man could find much better things to do with his tongue.

"You know, I really don't need to be _this_ aware of your sex life," Lorne broke in. "Or of Angel's, for that matter."

"Sorry," they said in unison, and Buffy giggled. Still, she was going to make Spike pay for that remark later…and oh did she know just how to do it. She let an evil smirk creep up the side of her face. Oh yeah. He'd be sorry.

"Where are you staying?" Buffy asked, deciding to steer the topic to something safe and centered on Lorne.

"I have a little place near here. A friend of mine owns an old apartment building. It's not much, but it's…"

"Bollocks," Spike interrupted, knowing exactly what Lorne was about to say. "Home is here. Now that we've got Niblet's room squared away, we can concentrate on fixing up a bed for you. You can go get your things, bring them back here, and settle right in."

Buffy stifled a giggle – they were so alike, each of them inviting someone to stay without asking Angel first. "Let's get to it," she said and, taking Spike's hand, she let him lead her out into the hall, following Lorne.

Why was she not surprised when Lorne seemed to gravitate to a room strategically located away from both their room and Angel's suite?

Angel was inside her.

There weren't any words for what Willow was feeling right now, and even if there had been, she couldn't have remembered them. Every cell in her brain and body was consumed by sensation. Nothing she'd ever experienced was anything like this.

His skin was cool against hers and that only seemed to make the heat of her own skin all the more intense…and the way he moved – he was both passionate and deliberate and she felt completely at his mercy.

It was scary and it was good.

Angel's hands moved over Willow's skin, trying to memorize her even as he found himself getting lost in the sensation of thrusting into her tight heat. She was his – truly his – and he knew that his real reward from the Powers wasn't his soul being secured, but the fact that he could now be with Willow.

He was already addicted to the way she gasped when he found a sensitive place or the way her warm hands felt against him as she explored his body the way he did hers. She was moving against him, meeting his thrusts, her nails digging into his flesh. Did she know what that pain did to enhance his pleasure? He wasn't going to be able to hold out much longer.

Shifting position in a way that he knew would stimulate her more, he was gratified to hear her begin to cry out.

"Angel!" she screamed as she reached orgasm just before she felt his teeth enter her neck as he came inside her. Oh goddess. He bit her!

It was…amazing. She'd never thought being bitten could be like this. The feel of him taking just a little of her blood had driven her to an even greater high than she'd expected

She felt the lack of him when he pulled out of her and lay beside her, nuzzling the bite he'd just made.

"Are you okay?" he asked, after he'd regained his senses. He'd never asked Willow if she was comfortable with the idea of being bitten. Certainly, she'd responded with ecstasy, but that was her body. Now that it was over, who knew what was going through her mind?

She turned slightly, wincing a bit as she did – her body letting her know just how long it had been since she'd had a male lover. The worry in Angel's eyes made her heart do a funny little jump. He cared – about her and about her feelings. "I know what you are, Angel. It's all right. I can handle teeth." She smiled and stroked his cheek for emphasis. "Besides…I liked it."

"Did you now?" he asked. There was a hint of a brogue in his voice and she suddenly remembered that he was Irish. Someday, she would ask him about his life – about who he'd been. Not now, though.

"Yeah, I did. A lot." There was an impish twinkle in her eyes and unspoken promise in the hand he could feel moving slowly down his body. Angel could feel the demon now safely chained respond to the wickedness he could see below the surface of his lover's smile.

But while her spirit was more than willing… "You need some rest before I take you up on that," he said, stopping her wandering hand.

She was about to argue when another movement made her wince again. Okay, Angel probably had a point. She was usually the Energizer Bunny, but right now... Guess being with a guy again after all this time would take some getting used to, huh?

"I can wait," Angel said, sensing her concern. Did she have any idea how expressive her face was?

"You don't mind? Because I know I'll be better once I get used to… It's just been so long, you know?"

He chuckled softly. "You're already a wonderful lover. But get some sleep…then you can show me again."

"Mmmm…'kay," she said, snuggling against him.

And sleep she did…at least for a little while.

Tbc…


	21. Chapter 21

Come Pouring Down Unified (Chapter Twenty-One)

It was amazing – the wonders which could be worked by a short nap. Only an hour or so after closing her eyes, Willow was awake and…er…rarin' to go. Maybe what had really tired her hadn't been the sex but the blood Angel had taken…or maybe just the overwhelming nature of the fact that she'd had sex with Angel in the first place.

She'd never thought that would happen. Oh sure, she'd _hoped_, but she hadn't really thought it would be possible. Angel probably hadn't either.

Yet here they were, naked in his bed.

"What are you thinking about?" Angel asked, his voice bringing an impish grin to her face.

"You."

"Really?" Angel trailed a finger up Willow's thigh. Her skin was so soft; he'd never tire of touching her. "What about me?"

Her eyes sparkled with mischief. "Why don't I show you?"

He hissed in pleasure as her head suddenly dipped and she took one of his nipples in her teeth before releasing it with a lick. Her instincts were perfect. "Like that?" she asked.

"Oh yeah."

She ran her tongue over his nipple again then grinned up at him. Her playful ways were a balm to his spirit, burning away more of the fog of grief in which he was still wandering. "I love you," he said.

No matter how many times he said it, she was never going to hear it enough. Loving someone and being loved right back. It had been so long. "I love you, too" she replied. That was something that now, however, she longed to express physically and not just with words.

Willow slid down Angel's body and was gratified to see his cock stirring to life. Deciding to help it along, she took the head of it in her mouth. "Mmmm," she hummed, enjoying the gasp she heard in response to her efforts. Guess she still knew what she was doing even after so many years.

Relaxing her throat, she took more of him in, delighted when she looked up to see that ridges had appeared on his face – it was powerful, the knowledge that she could make him lose control like that. She wanted to see just how much more she could do.

With a growl, Angel found himself arching up into Willow's mouth. God, but she was good at this. He could feel his true face had emerged; he didn't even try to hold it back. Willow accepted him, all of him, and that made him love her all the more.

Her mouth was moving up and down and he reveled in the feel of it – the heat, the suction. She was everything he'd dreamt of and that much more. "Willow," he groaned, knowing he couldn't last much longer. Those twinkling eyes looked up at him and that was it – he was lost.

He cried out her name once more as he came.

She drank in his release, surprised at herself. It was the first time Willow had ever swallowed. She'd never even thought about it with Oz, but it seemed natural with Angel. Licking her lips, she watched as his vampiric features melted back into his human face. She moved back up his body, surprised when he immediately kissed her. Did it bother him – tasting himself? It had never bothered her with Tara, but she didn't really know how men felt about it.

Her brain didn't stay in control for long enough to wonder anymore.

As delightful as that blow job had been, Angel wanted more – much more. He wanted to be inside her. Hardening again as he kissed her, his fingers found their way between her legs. The scent of her arousal had already told him that she was wet. So she got turned on by sucking his cock, eh? He grinned as he kissed her again before moving on top of her. She'd had all the power just now – it was time to take charge.

Thrusting into her tight heat, he had a feeling that control was never going to be easy to maintain.

Hoisting a box of record albums, Buffy once again followed Lorne out of his nondescript apartment. Actually, it would have to employ the services of a team of designers just to achieve nondescript. You could tell Lorne didn't own the building – or plan to stay in the place for long. His suit alone made him stand out like a floodlight in the…really dreary hallway. Buffy would have been suicidal after staying there for longer than an hour. How Lorne had managed for a week, she had no idea. "Nice place," she said, trying hard to sound sincere.

"It's a rat hole, sugar plum," he said. "But thanks."

Buffy shrugged. There wasn't much she could say in response to that. Not like a coat of paint or even a cool retro couch would have saved the apartment - and the building itself? It reminded her uncomfortably of that time when she'd believed she was an inmate in an asylum. "Is this everything?" she asked as they headed for the stairs.

"Yes, indeed. Thanks for all the help. It never ceases to amaze me how heavy vinyl is. But there's just no substitute for the sound. CD's are so…cold. I mean, don't get me wrong – CD players are marvelous and all, but vinyl…" He gave a dramatic sigh, but said nothing more. Buffy just thanked her lucky stars that she had Slayer strength. Because Lorne was right – man were these things heavy.

"So that's it." She dumped the box of records into the now-jam-packed back seat of the beleaguered rental car, thinking to herself that they really needed to buy a car – or even two – for the agency. Better get Willow to ask about that, because after Dawn arrived, Buffy wasn't sure how happy Angel would be with her. She would have to really drill it into Dawn's head that it was important to be nice to him now. Hey, maybe now that he wasn't her boyfriend it might happen.

"Thanks again," Lorne said as he got into the passenger seat. She tried to ignore the pained look on his face as she pulled out into traffic only to be greeted by the sound of several horns. Hey! Cut her some slack. It wasn't like she was able to use her rearview mirror with all the junk in the back seat. Besides, she wasn't any worse than any other L.A. driver. She wasn't.

Was Lorne _praying_?

Spike stepped quietly away from Angel's door; not that his sire hadn't likely sensed him there, but paying lip service to discretion was no bad thing. If he were human, he'd feel guilty for eavesdropping, but, soul or no, he was a demon and you couldn't blame him for indulging a bit of curiosity.

While they weren't nearly as vocal as he and his girl, it seemed like Red and Peaches were having a right fine time of it in there, and good on them. Maybe they'd both be a bit less angst-ridden from here on out. Willow'd been a chipper sort of gal back in the early days of her romance with Glinda. Of course, things had changed since then…for all of them, really.

His mind drifted to Niblet's imminent arrival. What would that be like, he wondered? There were still issues, he was sure. Had she and Buffy ever really talked about..._about_… Oh hell, what the devil could they have done if Spike didn't even know the words to use himself? It had been bad, that was for sure. But Buffy and he had gotten past it.

That didn't mean Dawn would be okay with things though. She'd once threatened to set him on fire – and she'd bloody well meant it. She'd been terrifying then, but it was terrifying the way any good sister would have been. Dawn was different from the rest of them. The world was still so black and white to her. Things were either right or wrong, bad or good. The Hellmouth had never opened up to show her the shadows. Was it because her memories weren't real? How much could anyone be truly affected by a dream, he wondered – even a whole lifetime made up of them.

But that was what made Dawn so special, made him think of her as a little sister he wanted to coddle and protect. She was a magical sort of girl and he wanted her to stay that way. Was it too late, though? Had she changed? Had knowledge and growing up and the world outside of Sunnydale wrought the transformation he feared?

Most important of all: Could she ever forgive him? Could she ever accept that Buffy loved him and that he loved her right back? Would she ever be his Bit again?

Yet again, he wondered if his sire's blood had finally turned rancid and sour inside him – he was _brooding_, damn it to hell and beyond. He turned on his heel and headed back to his room. He needed a shower to wash off the stench of excessive introspection.

Not for the first time, Buffy found it kind of inconvenient that her boyfriend was allergic to sunlight. Would have been nice if he could have gone with them to the apartment – if only to help spark some conversation. Especially with Lorne being so silent on the ride back. He was acting as if he was nearly incapacitated by her driving. She was _not _the worst driver in this city.

At least now it was dark, and she was so grateful to see Spike come outside to help unload the car. Maybe he could smooth things over with Lorne, too.

"Hey, honey," she said cheerfully. "We're home."

"Thank heavens," Lorne muttered.

One look at the expression on Lorne's face was all it took to tell Spike how the drive had gone. He loved Buffy with everything he was, but he knew that, for all that she had a wide variety of talents, driving wasn't one of them. She could have knocked down that Welcome to Sunnydale sign _without _intending to and that was a fact.

"Let me help you with all this," Spike said, deciding that bringing up the drive would be bad form, especially since watching Buffy bend over as she got a box out to hand to him gave him some fine ideas about how he wanted to spend their time later.

"Thanks," Buffy answered, glad to relegate the duty of carting Lorne's record collection upstairs to Spike. There was something to be said for having a guy with vamp strength, that was for sure. Before picking up another box, she glanced at her watch and started to grow concerned. Dawn had told her she would call her from New York so Buffy would know when to meet her at LAX. The traffic she'd have to get through to make it there… Why hadn't Dawn called? She should have been in New York a while ago, shouldn't she? Had she just forgotten to call? Or had something bad happened?

"What's wrong?" Lorne asked, hefting a garment bag and a satchel.

"Dawn should have called by now," she said without thinking, wincing as she saw Spike nearly drop the box he was carrying. "I mean, I'm sure it's just because her flight got delayed."

Spike said nothing, just hustled up the stairs and to Lorne's room with the box of records. No sooner had he managed to stop brooding about Dawn… There better not have been some pilot error or a traffic controller asleep on duty. Dawn's plane had better be right in the sky where it belonged and then on to a safe landing.

He turned and saw that the other two were with him in the room – standing around now, just like he was – looking lost. "We'd better go down and get the rest of the stuff, eh?"

Willow stared down into Angel's eyes as she felt the slide of his cock entering her. Her turn to set the pace this time and she'd decided to take it slow. Angel was the most demanding and aggressive lover she'd ever had and she was adjusting to it – not that she didn't like it, that was for sure. She just wanted to be on more familiar ground for a little while.

It felt so right – fast or slow, rough or gentle, she decided as she moved. It was amazing just _how _right this felt. At that precise moment, Angel thrust up to meet her. She gasped. "Oh!"

Angel closed his eyes, surprised at himself for giving in and letting her set this slow pace. It was wonderful. The sensation of each movement was somehow magnified. She was an incredible lover and he was enjoying everything she did.

That didn't mean, however, that he was going to just lie back and be a passive partner in all of this. He bucked up to meet her once more and delighted in the moan he got in response.

She began to pick up the pace and so did he, gripping her hips and wondering how long the marks he left would last. He liked the idea of there being tangible signs of their lovemaking – not just bites. She was so pale – almost as pale as he was – and he reveled in seeing the evidence of his possession on her skin. Funny how a permanent soul made him so much more comfortable with letting his demon out to play.

Soon, she wasn't taking it slow at all. Willow was caught up in the intensity of her desire and she didn't want to make it last. She wanted to reach this amazing peak Angel was taking her to – to feel as passionately as he did. This was like becoming a brand new person somehow and she was glorying in it. She let him guide her, giving up control and letting his hands on her hips tell her what to do.

"Angel!" she cried out in release just as he cried out her name and followed her.

Moments later, she lay, panting, beside him; sweat making locks of her hair stick to her face. She was his – truly and completely – and Angel gave thanks yet again to the Powers That Be for allowing him to have her. "You're so beautiful," he said reverently.

She smiled at him. "You, too."

The last of Lorne's things were now safely stowed away and Buffy was doing her best to suppress her horror at the tear in the upholstery of the back seat of the rental car by reminding herself that she knew a witch. There had to be a way to fix it that didn't involve asking Angel for a salary advance that she'd have to waste on this stupid car, right?

Oh, whatever. There was nothing she could do about it now. Besides, she had other things to worry about. Like Dawn. Who still hadn't called. If Dawn called from LAX, and all of this was just because she was being scatterbrained and thoughtless, Buffy was going to kill her.

And from the look on Spike's face, she figured she'd have some help.

"I hope Lorne likes it here," Buffy said, trying to make pleasant conversation as they stood in the kitchen, each pretending to be looking around for something they wanted to snack on.

"'Course he will," Spike said, hoping he didn't sound as if he was snapping at her and worried that he did. Bloody hell. All this worry. "C'mere, pet," he said, going to Buffy and pulling her into his arms. "She's all right, you know. Probably just had to take a later flight and figured she'd still just call you from New York, that's all. Why you'll see, any minute now that cell phone of yours will ring and…"

"Hello?" called out a voice from the front of the hotel. "Is anybody here?"

"Dawn?" Buffy said tentatively. "Is that Dawn? But what is she…?" Not waiting to even finish her own question, she dragged Spike out of the kitchen and nearly ran for the lobby.

"Dawn! What are you doing here? How did you…?" She ran to her sister and hugged her as tight as she could. "Thank God you're okay."

"Why wouldn't I be?" Dawn asked, clearly not understanding what the fuss was about. Spike was sure as hell gonna have a talk with her about that later…as soon as he made sure she had no matches or lighters or such.

"You didn't call," Spike explained.

Dawn's eyes narrowed as she looked at Spike and Buffy sighed. She really, really wished she'd been able to pick up her sister at the airport. The drive would have allowed her to do some explaining. Speaking of which… "How did you get here?"

And with that question, Dawn's expression transformed. She suddenly began grinning and…bouncing. That was bouncing she was doing. What was that about? Hopefully, what she was saying would explain. "Oh! Well, when I got to New York, I switched my flight to one that came into Burbank and so I figured I'd just call you when I got there and then, at the airport…I…sort of met someone. Well, not really met since I already knew him, but he gave me a ride here and… Oh God! Willow is going to be so excited! Because I know she said she was…but maybe this is different…and I totally told him she would love to see him again and…"

Buffy's heart sank as she listened to Dawn's fractured rambling. For all the words her overly-excited sister was omitting, Buffy had the worst feeling that she knew exactly what was going on and oh how she hoped she was wrong. "Dawn," she interrupted. "What did you do? Who did you talk to about Willow?"

"You can come out now," Dawn caroled.

"Hey."

With that one-word, familiarly laconic greeting, a purple-haired man emerged from an alcove.

"Hi, Oz."

Tbc…


	22. Chapter 22

Come Pouring Down Unified (Chapter Twenty-Two)

Oz was here.

Oz.

As in Willow's ex-boyfriend. As in the guy it would be really, really awkward for her to see right now considering she and Angel were…well, probably not playing chess upstairs.

Buffy had no idea how high this even rated on the bad-o-meter.

"This is not your finest hour," she hissed into Dawn's ear, not caring at all that her sister's shocked and confused expression might cause comment. What the hell had Dawn been thinking? Since when had she become the president of the Willow & Oz fan club?

Whose bright idea had it been to decide that the two things Dawn needed to know were that the world was about to end and Willow had broken up with Kennedy?

Okay, that would be her, which was something Buffy did not need to think about right now.

"It's...good to see you," Buffy said, wondering how on Earth she was going to handle this. Especially since she thought that might be a skeptical expression on Oz's face. Hard to tell, though. Maybe she was wrong.

"Yeah. You, too," Oz answered. Okay, yeah, that was skepticism. Guess she really did have a degree after all…from the Angel University of Strong, Silent Types. Turning to Spike, she raised an eyebrow. Wasn't it time for him to say something?

Spike nodded to their highly inconvenient visitor, not missing the rather obvious signal from his girl. What the devil was he supposed to say to the mutt? Sorry, but the girl you're here to see is upstairs getting shagged into next week? "Never thought I'd see you again," he offered conversationally.

The wolf shrugged in reply. Talked even less than his sire, Spike decided. Guess now he sort of figured out how Red's taste managed to include Peaches. Angel was better looking, though – by far. Probably a better shag, too, though Spike wasn't going to take Fido The First here on a test drive for comparison's sake. Maybe once upon a time, just for the ducks of it, but not now. Now he had Buffy and she was all he'd ever want or need from here on in.

Might ask Willow about it, though. After hearing about that ball gag remark she'd made, he figured she wasn't nearly as straight-laced as he'd once pegged her. She might share some details if he asked the right way.

"Where's Willow?" Dawn asked, becoming rather obviously peevish. She was also still glaring at him – that forgiveness thing obviously had yet to happen and Spike's heart ached. There was a time when Bit had seen him as her hero. He missed those days.

"She's…uh…upstairs," Buffy explained. "She's kinda tired, what with all the cleaning and stuff." An idea took shape and Buffy thought there might be a way out of this yet – at least temporarily. She addressed Oz. "I think she's probably sleeping. Maybe you should come back tomorrow, huh?"

Oz seemed taken aback and Dawn – darn it – just had to butt in again. "Oh c'mon! Willow would totally kill you if she found out Oz was here and she didn't get to see him. Where's her room? I'll go get her." Obviously Dawn hadn't understood the words 'not your finest hour'. What the heck was she going to do now?

"I'll get her," Spike interjected. "If anyone's got to face a cranky witch being dragged from her bed, it ought to be me." He was laying it on a bit thick…and Buffy adored him for it. Melodrama always came off so much better when he was the one staging it.

Dawn rolled her eyes, which was as close to a 'thank you' as Spike figured he was going to get for anything for the foreseeable future, and he headed for the stairs. This was not gonna be a pleasant task – interrupting Willow and his sire. No getting around it, though.

He knocked on the door to Angel's suite. "Peaches? You two better be decent in the next two seconds, 'cause I'm comin' in."

As good as his word, Spike opened the door just as Willow managed to pull the sheet over her breasts. "What's wrong?" she cried. This had to be an emergency…didn't it?

Angel, however, didn't seem to care if there was one or not. He was in full game face. It made her sort of hot…and now was so not the time for that. "Spike!" Angel growled. "What in the hell…?"

"Dawn's downstairs and..."

"And this couldn't wait?" Angel was furious. The girl was going to be _living _here. Just how important was it to see her now?

"Not bloody likely since she's not alone. Got herself a ride from the airport. Don't worry, Red, it's not some stranger. But I gotta say the hair's a bit strange."

"Spike, would you just tell us what this is about already?" If he didn't, Angel was going to tie him up, douse him in holy water, and throw him outside to greet the sunrise.

"Oz is down there. Turns out Dawn thought it would be a fine thing if he and Willow had a nice little reunion."

Buffy felt outnumbered and nervous in the lobby. She almost wished Lorne would come downstairs, but then again, maybe not. He might be the type who'd think it was a swell idea to just blurt out the truth. She didn't know him well enough to trust his discretion.

"So. Heard there was another apocalypse." Oz's voice was such a surprise that Buffy nearly jumped. Guess he was feeling the awkward, too.

"Yeah. But we took care of it. Well, mostly Willow and Angel and Spike, but… It's over. The good guys won." She kept her tone light. Did she really need to talk about the loss of Fred and Wesley?

"I gathered that."

Something about Oz's manner told Buffy he was getting that there was something wrong. She wanted to slap Dawn – or at least ground her – for doing this to him. Then she remembered all those months that Willow had pined for him and the way he'd returned to town just assuming Willow would take him back. She hadn't been as understanding then towards Willow as she should have been. Would hoping Oz suffered a little now make up for that? "Yeah, guess the fact that we're all still alive kind of gave it away."

"Just a little."

"Where are they?" Dawn whined.

And just when Buffy was sure things had gotten as awkward as humanly (and werewolf-ly) possible, Spike came down the stairs…followed by Angel and Willow. Obviously-hastily-dressed Angel and Willow. Oh God. This was not going to be pretty.

"Oz! Hi!" Willow chirped. Oh goddess. She sounded like she'd been sucking helium. She stood on the stairs for a moment, chiding herself. This wasn't the factory and the man standing beside her wasn't Xander. She wasn't cheating on Oz. She had nothing to hide.

Still, being nice wouldn't hurt.

"Good to see you," Oz said.

And then his nostrils flared.

Well, there went the chance to be nice and break it to him gently. Guess hiding the bite mark hadn't bought them any time after all. But in her defense, it wasn't like she and Angel had the time to take a shower. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Angel almost preening. You know, she'd almost forgotten about testosterone.

As much as she loved him, she did sort of wish Angel could be a bit less competitive. Then again, she probably wouldn't be any different if Nina were to walk in the door. Maybe it was just human nature and not a gender issue after all.

"We should talk," Oz said softly after a few seconds of seemingly endless silence.

"Yeah. Talking would be good." As surreptitiously as she could manage, she reached over and squeezed Angel's hand. "We can go to the office. Right, Angel?" She turned to look at him, praying that he would understand.

He did. "Sure." He paused a moment before quietly adding, "Take all the time you need."

"Thanks." She walked away from him, turning back once to smile, and Oz followed her towards the office. Now all she had to do was think of what to say.

The moment they were out of sight, Dawn turned on Angel. "What's going on?"

Angel rolled his eyes. Great. Explain to him again why he'd agreed to let the little brat move in here. Because right now it was seeming like the worst idea ever.

"Remember when I told you this was not your shining hour?" Buffy interposed. "There's stuff you need to know. Stuff I would have told you if you had called me like you were supposed to and let me pick you up at the airport."

"Oh, so now this is _my _fault? Because I didn't even…" Dawn stopped mid-sentence, seeming to change course, and her mouth set in a tight line as she glared at Angel. Buffy wondered what she'd been about to say. Guess she'd never know since instead of finishing, Dawn addressed Angel. "You know, Oz was a pretty good boyfriend once. And he could be again - probably - at least if Willow wants a boyfriend instead of a girlfriend. Anyway, he'd be a lot better than you. At least he won't turn into some world-ending, teacher-killing...oh, and fish-killing psycho if he gets happy, unlike you, who..."

"Angel won't either," Spike interrupted.

"What?"

"Angel can be as happy as can be now. One of the perks of saving the world for the umpteenth time. The Powers That Be decided we'd all suffered enough with his endless brooding and secured Angel's soul." Spike didn't give a tinker's dam if Dawn was irritated with him right now. He was irritated with _her_. She was angry at him about what had happened with Buffy? All right. But she needed to realize that Willow wasn't her bleedin' Barbie doll. Memories of her acting as if Willow and Tara's relationship was way too much _her _business came to mind and they didn't show her at her best.

"I love Willow," Angel said. "And she loves me."

Dawn was about to say something and Buffy opted to cut her off at the pass. "It's true." She held up her hand just as Dawn opened her mouth again. "I know. I know you don't like Angel and you want what you think is best for Willow, but…the thing is, it's not about you, okay?" She took Dawn's hand and stared into her eyes. "This is about Willow deciding for herself she wants and what's good for her. And Angel is good for her." She turned for a moment and locked eyes with her first love and said, "You are."

"Thank you," Angel said, smiling softly at her. Spike had been so wrong all those years ago: They _were_ friends and the passion was gone, stored away in a trunk full of memories…and that was a good thing. They'd both moved on, to truer love than they'd ever shared together.

"What about Oz?" Dawn asked.

"What _about _Oz?" Spike asked. "Not like he'd be a problem if…"

"Spike!" Buffy chided, cutting him off. Things between the love of her life and her sister were on shaky enough ground without him making things worse…even though he was absolutely right. "He has a point, though, Dawn. You really shouldn't have gotten in the middle of this."

"So you _are_ saying that this is my fault?"

"If the shoe fits," Angel muttered. What? It wasn't as if he cared about Dawn's feelings. If it was possible, he liked her less than ever. Only the fact that she was Buffy's sister kept him from throwing her out in the street.

There was no nasty look from the brat, however. She hadn't heard him. "I was just trying to help," she pouted.

"I know," Buffy said, wrapping her arms around her sister. "But next time you want to cheer Willow up, you might try a gift certificate to the Psychic Eye or something, 'kay?"

"I still think Oz is better than Angel."

They stood in the silent office for a moment, staring at each other, while Willow tried to figure out what to say. To her surprise, Oz spoke first. "So, you and Angel, huh?"

"Yeah."

"I'm guessing the soul thing isn't an issue anymore."

"Nope." And when had she fallen into 'backwards world'? Wasn't Oz the one who was supposed to be monosyllabic?

"Do you love him?"

"I do," she said softly.

"I guess that's it then." He was right, but she looked into the shadowed, sad depths of his eyes and knew that there was more that needed to be said.

"Oz, I… "

"It's okay," he said, and she stopped in her verbal tracks. Pushing things would just be insensitive. Besides, for all she knew he had only come here just to say hi and do a little catching up. Maybe he was relieved she wasn't available.

"So… What brings you to L.A.?"

He shrugged. "Figured I'd see about hooking up with a new band. Kind of had enough of monasteries for awhile."

"You went back to Tibet?"

He looked away for a moment. "After…what happened, with Tara and you, I figured I needed to work some more on my control."

This was…weird. "All this time?"

"Off and on. I went to Japan for awhile. Thailand, too. But Tibet was…Tibet, you know?"

Willow wasn't sure she did, but she nodded and said, "Yeah."

"How did it happen? The 'you and Angel' thing, I mean." The question stopped her short. She hadn't expected it, though maybe she should have. But she'd sort of taken him at his word when he'd said 'that's it then'.

"It just sort of did." She didn't figure there was any point in explaining the whole mess with Fred and Giles. Better to just give him the Reader's Digest Condensed Version. "One minute we were laughing about the things we have in common and the next we were kissing. I guess it's not every day that two people who've both tried to end the world find each other."

Oz's eyes grew shadowed. "I heard about that."

"That was a bad time," Willow said. "But hey, I got better. Now I'm all about using my powers for good." She ended with a cheery grin, hoping to lighten the mood.

"Yeah, I heard you got pretty powerful." He didn't say that like it was a good thing and it reminded her of the old days when he'd disapproved of every spell she tried. Maybe he'd been right about her needing to be more careful, but she thought now that there had been more to it than that – that he didn't really want her to be a witch at all.

"I am," she said. There was more she could have said, but why? 'I am' pretty much covered it.

"I've thought about you."

"I've thought about you, too," she said, keeping her tone light – and honest. "I wondered if you got married, what your kids looked like…" He was staring into her eyes now and she realized that all her earlier hopes were probably way off. "So, there's no Mrs. Oz, huh?"

"No," he said. And she still knew him well enough to know that it was sadness she heard in his voice.

"Oz, I…"

"It's okay, Willow." He stood silent for a moment. "I guess this means I won't be seeing you in Istanbul."

"No," she said softly.

"I'm gonna head out the back way. Tell everybody I said goodbye, all right?"

"Oz," she said, one last time. But he didn't turn around. He just walked away.

When Willow walked back into the lobby, she was alone. Angel went to her and put his arms around her. "How did it go?"

"He's gone," she said simply, but Angel could smell the tears she'd cried. Dawn was going to pay for putting Willow through this.

"He just left?" Dawn shrilled.

"He said to tell you goodbye," Willow offered.

Dawn huffed, but she seemed to dial it down after seeing the sad look on Willow's face. "Sorry," she offered, much to Angel's shock. "I didn't mean… I didn't know about you and Angel."

"We told her," Buffy explained in response to the confused look on Willow's face.

"I still think Oz is way better, but…"

"Dawn!"

"What? I was gonna say that I just want Willow to be happy."

"Thanks, Dawnie," Willow chuckled, looking up into her guy's irritated face. "I am."

"So am I," Angel said, acting as if Dawn actually cared.

A few seconds of thought on everyone's part followed, and then Dawn piped up again. "So, where's my room?"

"Right upstairs," Buffy answered. Seeing this as an ideal opening for some edge-smoothing, she added, "Spike spent all day cleaning it for you."

"Oh," was all Dawn had to say.

It was no wonder Spike was now glowering.

Grabbing one of her sister's bags with a heavy sigh, Buffy headed for the staircase. As much as she loved Dawn, she was starting to think that maybe asking her to come stay here hadn't been such a great idea after all.

Tbc…


	23. Chapter 23

Come Pouring Down Unified (Chapter Twenty-Three)

Buffy dragged herself into her room and flopped onto the bed. "Oof!" Today had been such a rollercoaster.

"I'm surprised you're here so soon," Spike said, coming out of the bathroom wearing nothing but a towel around his hips. "Woulda thought you and Dawn had more to talk about." It was pretty obvious he was wondering if she'd told her about their relationship.

"She was jet-lagged and cranky," Buffy explained. "Seriously, it was like dealing with a toddler. She kept saying she wasn't tired and wanted me to tell her all about what's going on, but the next thing I knew, she fell asleep with her head on her duffel bag. She didn't even wake up when I moved her or when I took off her shoes."

He didn't look pleased and Buffy understood. But it wasn't as if she could have explained things to Dawn while she was sleeping, now could she?

Getting up and going to Spike, she wheedled, "You know I want to tell her. I wanted to tonight, I swear. But she really is asleep. You can go check if you don't believe me."

Spike sighed. He knew she was telling the truth. Hell, if Dawn hadn't been dead tired, she'd have figured more out on her own. "I believe ya." But Dawn wasn't all that was on his mind right now. Because Buffy was doing some very distracting things with her hands. When she'd come into the room, she'd seemed knackered, but now…"What are you up to, pet?"

"Hmmm," she said as she trailed a finger around one of his nipples, "I think the question is: What are _you _'up' to?" She punctuated her words with a rather pointed look down…down to where Spike's towel was moving upward. Despite the fact that she hadn't told Dawn about them yet, her man was still happy to see her. Good. She decided she was going to forget about that 'punishing' thing she'd thought of earlier. "Wanna see if we can be quiet again?"

Spike's mouth was on hers almost the second the last word was spoken. He'd spent all day cleaning hotel suites; he was due for some shagging.

Buffy's hands were at his towel now, pulling it off with ease. He needed to get her naked, as well.

Luckily, she was on the same page – she pulled off her t-shirt. Bloody hell. She was wearing that pink bra. While there was no chance she had on the garter belt under her jeans, the bra itself was a treat to see. "Bring back any memories?" she asked with a coy little wink.

"Oh yeah," he growled, licking his lips as she coquettishly removed the bra and then shucked her jeans. Who cared that the thong didn't match? At least she wouldn't mind him tearing this one off of her. One of these days he'd convince her to give up knickers entirely. They just got in the way.

Not waiting for her to take off the thong herself, he pulled her towards him again and did just as he wanted, tearing the scrap of cotton in two. "Hey!" she protested, "Pretty soon I'm not gonna have any underwear left."

"Suits me."

Before she could answer him, Spike was kissing her again. Her mind went back to the first time she'd kissed him – the day Willow's spell went wonky. If she'd known then…

A few seconds later, she was on the bed and Spike's head was buried between her thighs. Had she ever told him how incredibly good he was at this? Because was he ever. That cool tongue…mmmm… She was turning into Cave Buffy now and she waved goodbye to her brain as she took a vacation in the land of 'oh my God – don't stop!'

Later, she'd congratulate herself for remembering not to scream.

After everything that had just transpired downstairs, a shower sounded like a great idea. The last thing Willow wanted to do was talk about her conversation with Oz.

As Angel started the water, Willow began stripping off her clothes. The shower stall was nice, she noticed, obviously a remodel. Her boyfriend liked certain creature comforts, that was for sure. Then again, so did she.

He looked her over appreciatively as she removed her panties and she grinned. "Like it, mister?"

"Oh yeah." Angel made quick work of disrobing as he watched her beat him into the now nicely-hot shower.

Hot water had always been something of an aphrodisiac for him and now was certainly no exception. No sooner had he gotten in, then he pushed Willow up against the shower wall, kissing her passionately.

It didn't take long for her to get in the spirit of things and her hands were soon roaming over his body, making him moan into her mouth. The heat of the water against his back, the heat of Willow's skin against his chest… He was overwhelmed by sensation. Spreading her legs, he thrust inside her.

Willow gasped at the feel of him. Goddess was this good. She'd never wanted a man like this. He lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around him, taking him deeper. It felt incredible. Could they just stay like this forever? He kept thrusting and Willow was this close to coming. She couldn't believe Angel's skill as a lover. He was extraordinary. She had to be the luckiest girl in the whole world.

Was she melting? It felt like it. The steam in the shower made Angel's skin feel far different than it had before – almost human. But that was the only thing human about him. Once again, he was in game face and once again, Willow had to admit it turned her on. She loved all of him and that included his demon.

That demon was now pounding her into the wall of the shower, the pain making the pleasure all the more intense. How crazy had she been earlier to think she wanted anything but this? This fire, this barely-restrained violence? Goddess, but it felt good – losing control, making _him _lose control.

The tile was slick and hard against her back and her teeth found Angel's shoulder as she came.

Her teeth in his flesh were all it took to send Angel over the edge right after her. This was the second time she'd bitten him. The way he felt stunned him silent as he spilled himself inside her – all heat, nothing but heat. She consumed him.

A moment later, coming down from the high, he found himself almost panting; ridiculous for a creature who didn't need to breathe.

"Wow," Willow breathed as Angel pulled out of her and set her down on legs which felt like spaghetti. "That was…"

"Yes it was." He grinned at her; she smiled right back.

And wow – the water was still pretty hot. There was even some steam. Reaching for the soap, she figured maybe they ought to clean up a little. Then Angel kissed her again. She dropped the soap.

Okay, maybe they'd get clean a little later.

"Bloody hell! Two hundred channels and nothing but rubbish on any of them," Spike groused as he sat next to Buffy in their bed, remote control in hand. "Think there's a better package?"

"I don't think so," Buffy purred, reaching under the sheet. "I think the best package available is right…here."

"Better stop that," Spike groaned with no small amount of ambivalence. "Your sister could well be up and about soon."

"Please. She'll probably sleep for days." She started stroking him, gratified by his response. "In the meantime…"

Leaning down, Spike kissed her.

"Oh my God! What are you…? Oh my God!"

The sound of shrieking made them both turn to the door with a start. Luckily they remembered they were naked and stayed put under the sheet.

"Dawn! Did you forget how to knock?"

"What are you doing with him? After what he…?" And with that, Dawn ran from the room.

Cursing in a dozen demon languages, Spike put his jeans back on as fast as he could and ran out into the hall just in time to hear Dawn's door slam. Just bleedin' terrific. Bit was having a temper tantrum.

"She didn't leave the hotel did she?" Buffy asked as she stumbled out into the hall, still fastening the button on her jeans.

"No. She's in her room."

"If she had just called me from the airport…" Buffy's eyes filled with tears. This was all such a mess.

"It'll be all right, pet. " He wrapped his arms around her. This wasn't her fault. Dawn would have probably taken it just as badly if Buffy had told her the news in the car, really. At least this way Dawn didn't jump out of a moving vehicle and into traffic.

After a moment or two of mutual silence, Buffy left the comfort of Spike's arms. "I better go talk to her."

Spike grabbed her hand, stopping her as she was about to walk away. "Might want to go back in and put a bra on first."

This was getting ridiculous. "Dawn. Let me in, okay? We can talk." How many times was she going to have to ask? She'd been standing out here for ten minutes already. Was she going to have to break the door down? Because she really did not want to damage Angel's hotel. "I can explain, honest. Just open the door."

"No." Dawn was at her most petulant. As much as Buffy loved her sister, there were times when she wanted to strangle her. "I can't believe you! I don't even know you anymore! You both make me sick!"

Buffy let out a long sigh. "Look, I know it's hard for you to understand right now, but… would you please just open the door? I can't see us having this conversation with me out here in the hall."

There was no answer at all now and Buffy heard the sound of the television turning on. "Great," she muttered. "Dawn," she pleaded one last time. Not a word from her sister. She was just going to have to wait her out. Turning on her heel, Buffy headed back for her own room.

It was obvious Buffy was having no luck in getting through to Dawn, so after standing and watching the pathetic scene play out in the hall for a few minutes, Spike decided to go for reinforcements. Back when Buffy had been – oh how he hated to think about it – dead, Willow had been pretty good with Niblet. Maybe she could reach her now, get her to understand.

"Angel? Willow?" Spike called out as he knocked, hoping that the show of respect represented by the use of their given names would help his cause. "I need to talk to you."

Spike sounded…disturbingly deferential. Something had to be wrong. Pulling on a pair of silk pajama pants and throwing Willow a robe, Angel went to the door. "What is it?"

"It's Dawn," Spike said.

"What happened?" Willow asked. She was genuinely worried; Spike seemed so upset.

"She…uh…walked in on me and Buffy and…"

"Oh goddess. You mean Buffy didn't tell her?"

"Didn't get the chance. Bit fell asleep right after Buffy showed her where her room was. Thought she'd be out for a damn sight longer than this, that's for sure." Spike was restless, emotion making his limbs almost twitch with the effort of staying still. "Dawn's shut herself up in her room. She won't even open the door for Buffy." He turned to Willow as he spoke, hoping she'd see how important this was. "I thought maybe you could get through to her."

From the look on her face, it was clear that Willow understood. "Okay. Just give me a minute to get dressed and I'll see what I can do."

"Thanks," he said. Guess he'd known he could count on her. Now if only she really could make things right between Dawn and Buffy…and between Dawn and him as well. Without another word, he left the room.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Angel asked when Spike was gone.

Willow sighed as she picked up her now twice-rumpled clothes from the bathroom floor and put them back on. She was going to have to move her things in here, she decided; at least some of them. "I know you don't like her very much. I even understand. But Dawn…she's family. And she needs to accept the way things are. Once she does… You guys might even get along. You never know. Deep down, she's got a good heart. She really does. I love her, Angel. And I love Buffy. I don't want them to hurt."

"Dawn's not the only one with a good heart," Angel said as he watched her dress.

Straightening her shirt, Willow smiled at him. "Thanks," she said. "I hope that's enough."

This was ridiculous. Willow had stood out here talking for five minutes and the only response from Dawn had been an increase in the volume of the television. Should she just go back to her room – give up? She thought about it, even turned to do exactly that, but then she spun back around, fire now blazing from her eyes. Dawn was not going to get away from this. A locked door and a bad attitude might be enough to stop a Slayer, but they were no match for a determined witch.

Muttering a few words under her breath, she reached down and felt the doorknob turn – the door was unlocked. With that, she pushed it open and strode into the room.

Dawn leapt off the bed. "What are you doing here?"

Taking a deep breath to calm herself, Willow decided to proceed gently. Getting aggressive with Dawn was usually a bad move. "I want to talk to you, okay?" She sat down on the bed and patted the space next to her. Dawn stayed standing. Oh well. But at least she turned off the TV.

"So talk." Arms akimbo and her mouth in a tight line, Dawn was going to be a tough nut to crack.

That did not mean Willow was backing down. "Look, I know it's a little upsetting for you, especially the way you found out, but…"

"A little upsetting?" Dawn shrieked. "Have you forgotten what he did? I can't believe Buffy would be with him after he…"

"Dawn," Willow interrupted. "I know that Spike crossed a line, a really big one. But it's not the whole story. You're shocked and you don't understand, I get that. So why don't you just sit down and let me explain."

Still no sale. Time to bring out the big guns. "You're an adult now, right? A grown woman who doesn't need to be sheltered?" Dawn nodded. "Then it's time you started acting like it."

It worked; Dawn sat down. A bit huffily, but at least she was sitting. Willow reached over and took her hand. "You remember when Buffy came back, right?" Dawn nodded. "And you know that she and Spike…?" Another nod, this one a bit annoyed. "Okay. But what you don't know is what it was like between them. It was…complicated. There wasn't a whole lot of moonlight and roses…it wasn't like me and Tara. Not at all. It was…harsh."

Dawn was staring at her intently now. Gosh how she hoped her fractured narrative was helping. It wasn't easy, being honest and restrained at the same time. She waited to see if Dawn had anything to say, anything that might help her know how to continue. But what came out of Dawn's mouth was: "So it was like…bondage or something?"

Willow's eyes shot wide. She really wasn't ready for Dawn to be talking about the kinky stuff. "No, but it was…harsh." Repetition wasn't going to do the trick. She closed her eyes and hoped Buffy wouldn't be upset at her for this. "It was angry and it was violent and it wasn't good. That doesn't make what Spike did okay. It doesn't mean that at all. But it sort of explains how it happened, even though... And you know, right away, he got it. He got that he'd done something terrible. I mean, he went to Africa and got his soul and everything. He understood – he still does."

Dawn was looking down now, processing what she'd just heard. Willow squeezed her hand. "You should see how sweet he is to her. He loves her. And she loves him right back. He won't ever, ever hurt her again. I promise you."

"You can't promise something like that," Dawn said softly, tears in her eyes.

"No, but I can promise that Warren's death was a picnic compared to what I'll do to him if he screws up," Willow replied. "Give him a chance, okay? We all make mistakes. What matters is how we deal with them, what we do to make things right." She hoped Dawn would get the connection to her reference to Warren. Spike wasn't the only one, after all, who had made really big mistakes. Softening her tone, she said, "He's a good man now – the good man you always thought he was before. He misses you, you know? Being your friend? He misses that so much." Dawn was wavering, so Willow turned the topic slightly. "Do you think Buffy would be with him if that night was really who he was? Don't you know your sister better than that? You love her, I know you do. And you've always looked up to her. Have some faith in her now."

Dawn sat, obviously lost in thought, while Willow kept hold of her hand. "Okay," she said. "But if he so much as looks cross-eyed at…"

"I'll incinerate him, I swear."

With that, Dawn pulled her into a hug. "I guess I probably should have let Buffy explain, huh?"

Willow chuckled. "Yeah, but I think she'll forgive you. Wanna go let her know that things are okay now?"

That last question was supposed to be a formality, so Willow was surprised when Dawn pulled her back down as she tried to stand up. "We're not done here yet. You had so better tell me how you wound up with Angel."

Tbc…


	24. Chapter 24

Come Pouring Down Unified (Chapter Twenty-Four)

Willow held Dawn's hand with one of her own and knocked on Buffy's door with the other. The latter act was something Dawn seemed to have neglected last time and Willow had no interest in repeating her impolite error. Walking in on comfort-sex or anything would be a very bad idea. Plus, even if they weren't actually doing something naughty, Willow knew from Buffy that Spike tended to have a 'clothing optional' policy when they were alone. Frankly, there was only one vampire she wanted to see naked, and it wasn't Spike.

"Look who's here," Willow caroled as Buffy opened the door. She raised the hand still attached to Dawn's, realizing even as she did it that she was sort of acting like a game show hostess presenting a prize. Her mother had ranted about those women once – something about 'handmaidens of conspicuous consumption'. Willow fought back a giggle. Like her mother – her Lexus-driving mother – was really one to talk. Guess it was only capitalist evil when other people did it.

But back to the here and now… "Dawn and I had a little talk and…"

"I'm sorry," Dawn blurted out.

Buffy pulled her into the tightest hug ever; Dawn even squeaked. It was so good to know things were okay now. Remind her to do something really nice for Willow. She might even buy her that velvet broomstick skirt…okay, maybe she wouldn't go that far. "I'm sorry, too. I should have told you before…"

"You didn't really have a chance," Dawn interjected. That was a lot more maturity than Buffy had been expecting. Just what had Willow done? It didn't involve spells, did it?

"Thanks," Spike chimed in. He hoped the understanding Dawn had on offer extended to him.

Dawn fixed him with a pretty solid version of a steely glare. "We're not friends. Just so you know. But Willow explained stuff to me – a lot of stuff," Spike raised an eyebrow at the same time Buffy did; there'd be some questions for the witch later. "And… I'll give you a chance. But I swear that if you so much as make Buffy cranky, I will… I'll have Willow make you allergic to blood."

For all that Dawn's threat was childish – and admittedly that was comforting considering how very _not_ childish her last threat had been – the sentiment and the tone in which she delivered it weren't and Spike took her words in solemnly. "I won't hurt her. I love her."

"That's what Willow said. She better be right." Dawn walked up to him and held her hand out. He shook it, knowing they were making a pact. He didn't try to embrace her though he hoped that would happen soon – that she'd be his little Niblet again.

"She's as right as she's ever been."

Willow took her first real breath since they'd entered the room. Her talk had worked; it had really worked. Her heart felt like it might burst. How had she not realized how much she'd missed this sense of family until now? It felt so good that they were all getting along now. Dawn would love Spike again, she was sure. At least she was giving him the benefit of the doubt.

"Thank you," Buffy said, hugging her.

Willow hugged her back. "It was nothing. What are friends for?"

What was Buffy supposed to say to that? It sure felt to her as if Willow had managed to work a miracle. Hey, Dawn was willing to give Spike a chance. "I love him with all my heart," Buffy said as she let go of Willow and turned to her sister again. "He makes me happy." Spike was gazing at her with eyes so full of emotion she wanted to cry…or rip his clothes off, not that doing that was such a good idea right now.

"He'd better," Dawn said, her tone softening appreciably despite her words. Maybe she could see what Buffy saw.

Deciding that a bonding ritual was in order, Willow suggested, "You want to head downstairs and raid the freezer? Angel has it stocked with Ben & Jerry's."

To her surprise, and obviously to Buffy's as well, Dawn shook her head. "I'm still feeling kind of tired – jet lag, I guess. You guys mind if I go back to my room and take another nap?"

"Sure. That's fine." Buffy hugged her sister again. While it was kind of weird for Dawn to say no to ice cream, there was no need to push when things were going so well. "We'll talk more later, 'kay?"

"Oh yeah," Dawn said. She hugged Willow once more, turned a searching gaze on Spike and then headed out the door.

Buffy watched wistfully as it closed behind her. Should she have offered to accompany her? She didn't want to hover, but… Letting out a deep sigh, she sank down on the bed. It was so hard to know what to do.

And since when was she 'Self-Doubt Girl'? It was the age thing again, wasn't it? Prune juice loomed on the near horizon.

Spike sat down next to Buffy and put his hand on her knee. "That went right well." He turned to Willow. "Thanks, Red. I owe ya." He put a world of gratitude into those words and he hoped she heard it. He'd done the vulnerability thing back in Angel's room, or at least as much of it as he could handle in one day – he wasn't going to make any sentimental speeches now, not to anyone but his girl and only when they were alone.

"We really do owe you one, Will."

Willow smiled at the pair, taking a moment to really look at them – at the way Spike's eyes softened when he gazed at Buffy, at the way Buffy's fingers looked so at home as they entwined with his. She'd been utterly truthful with Dawn, hadn't she? Spike really was absolutely perfect for Buffy. It was about time. After everything Buffy had endured and all the sacrifices she'd made… Yeah, it was long overdue for the universe to get it right and let her grab the brass ring for once.

She said something self-effacing without really listening to herself and headed for the door. There was, after all, her own happiness to attend to. Just as her hand was turning the doorknob, however, Buffy's voice stopped her in her tracks. "What exactly did you tell Dawn about me and Spike?"

Uh oh. Guess she had some explaining to do.

A relentless and rapid tattoo being beaten on his door distracted Angel from some very pleasant thoughts and he resented it – all the more so when he realized the person at the door was Dawn Summers.

"Angel?" she called out in a sort of stage whisper "Let me in. Quick!"

Groaning as he got up from his comfortable chair, he called out, "Come in." Dawn did just that, rushing in and hastily closing the door behind her.

"What's wrong?" Her behavior had him concerned despite himself.

She stared at him like he was an idiot. There went the concern. "Nothing's wrong. I just needed to make sure no one saw me come in here." Great. That really explained things.

"Why…"

But before he could finish his question, she interrupted. "So. You and Willow? We need to talk about that." Angel's heart sank. He'd been dreading this. She was going to put him through some jejune lecture about how he wasn't good enough and how Willow would be better off with Oz. He motioned to a chair, encouraging her to at least sit so he could do the same. Sadly, she didn't take the hint. It appeared he was going to have to take this standing up.

A few seconds later, he wished he was sitting down for a whole different reason. "She loves you, you know." That was not how Angel expected this conversation to start.

"I love her, too."

"You better. Because… She's been hurt – a lot. And none of it should have happened to her." At last Dawn sat down and so Angel did the same. "You know, back when Buffy was… When she was gone, Willow was the one who took care of me. I mean yeah, there was Tara, too, and she was wonderful, but Willow…she was the one who made sure I ate breakfast and did my homework and understood how much I was hurting and… I owe her. So I figure making sure she's happy would be a good way to pay her back."

Angel wanted to say something, but he wasn't sure what. Besides, before he got the chance to wrap his head around what Dawn had just said, she continued. "You're not Tara, and you'll never be Tara, but no one could ever be Tara and I guess it's okay that you're nothing like her. But she was perfect, you know, so you have to at least try to be as perfect as you _can_ be. Because Willow deserves that and if it wasn't for Warren, she'd still have it and…"

"I know," Angel interposed in a solemn enough tone to stop Dawn dead in her verbal tracks. "Believe me. I know how special she is." Some lingering skepticism was apparent, and maybe he should be worried about addressing it, but instead he decided there was something Dawn needed to hear. If she didn't like it, that was tough. "She's told me about Tara and what they had. But the thing is…Willow isn't the same Willow she was then and I'm not the same Angel you knew back in Sunnydale. We're…who we are today. And that's who this relationship is about. I'm not in love with Tara's girlfriend and Willow's not in love with Buffy's boyfriend. Things change. People change."

The wheels turning behind Dawn's eyes were almost visible and Angel thought maybe Willow had been right, maybe Dawn was more grown-up now. "Yeah," she said softly after a moment. "I guess you're right. It's not really fair to expect people to stay the same…" He wondered just what she was thinking about as her voice trailed off. There was a brief stab of pity as he wondered just what it would be like to know that the larger portion of your life never really happened. Would it be easy to let things transform into memory then? Or would you hunger for a sort of living stasis where everything remained as it was no matter how much time passed, so that nothing really became memory at all?

"Willow's still Willow," he offered. "That hasn't changed. She's just…"

"I know," Dawn said, her voice amazingly free of sarcasm or irritation. "I'm…I'm sorry, I guess."

Much to his own astonishment, Angel was entirely genuine when he replied, "There's nothing to apologize for. You love her. I do, too, so I can understand being worried about her."

Dawn got up and so Angel immediately followed suit. "I better go back to my room. I kinda told them I had jet lag and was gonna take a nap." She let Angel lead the way to the door, but before he opened it, she added, "Oh, and I promise I won't put Nair in your shampoo."

For the first time ever, Angel smiled sincerely at Dawn Summers.

Having escaped Buffy and Spike with only a minimal amount of distress – she'd been smart enough not to tell them about Dawn's bondage remark – Willow found herself unable to simply bask in the joy of having another member of her family back in the fold because she was now dealing with another crisis: Was Angel going to want her to move her things into his room? Should she suggest it? Should she wait for him to ask?

She didn't recall ever having this problem before. She and Tara had just sort of evolved – first into having clothes in each other's rooms and then into living together – with only a bare minimum of negotiation and Kennedy, well… Yeah, there hadn't been much talk there either. Of course, with girls it was different, that was true. Not like Angel was going to 'borrow' her clothes and then keep them around.

But speaking of clothes, what she was wearing was rumpled and untidy and a change would be good. She decided on a quick shower first – the one she'd taken with Angel hadn't been quite so focused on the usual objectives of showering – and after that… It was time to debut those leather pants. Because hey, Buffy could be kind of right; changing up her style a _little_ might be a good idea.

Dawn had left at least twenty minutes ago and Angel was still a bit undone by what had transpired. She'd gone from being a brat he was barely willing to tolerate to…well, maybe still a brat, but a brat whose heart was in the right place, and Angel respected that. Willow deserved being the object of Dawn's protective instincts.

The insights he suddenly had into Dawn made him less inclined to dislike her as well. They were both creatures out of step with the normal flow of time and events and, like it or not, that gave them a sort of kinship. Guess it was more than her connection to Buffy that made them…family. Yes, he was willing to welcome her into that new construct he'd formed. He rubbed his temples, wishing vampires were immune to headaches.

A very different knock sounded at his door and it seemed to banish his headache with its welcome rhythm. Instead of bidding her to open the door, Angel got up and went to open it himself. Willow deserved some ceremony.

The sight that greeted him almost made him think that he should have been sitting down. She was attired in a filmy silk blouse, tied at the waist and the buttons undone almost all the way down, a black lace bra visible underneath; her hair was becomingly tousled…and – ye gods – she was wearing leather pants.

Dark purple leather pants.

_Tight_, dark purple leather pants.

It was a very good thing he didn't need to breathe.

Willow just knew the grin she couldn't suppress was pure cat-that-ate-the-canary. How could she help it? The look on Angel's face gave her a feeling of womanly power that had nothing to do with magic…at least not the kind that involved spells and potions. "You like?" she asked, already knowing the answer. Remind her to thank Buffy for talking her into these pants…the pants she was pretty sure Angel would be trying to talk her _out _of in about ten seconds.

"I like," Angel answered, marveling that he was able to speak. She looked so much better now than she had all those years ago when she'd played dress-up in her doppelganger's clothes. She'd been a girl then; she was all woman now. The difference was astonishing and Angel felt it in an intensely physical way. He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her close. "Do you have any idea how sexy you are?"

If she hadn't known before, what she could feel pressed up against her told Willow that Angel thought she was very sexy indeed. But there was no harm in playing coy. "I'm not sure," she purred. "Maybe you should show me."

Now he was the one with the cat-like grin. She _really_ needed to thank Buffy for making her buy these pants…

Later.

Spike was rooting the freezer looking for just the right ice cream when he sensed he was no longer alone. "Hey there," he said, turning around to greet Lorne.

"Hey yourself, Blondie." Lorne seemed in search of something. "You haven't noticed whether Angel laid in a supply of the necessary ingredients for a Sea Breeze, have you?"

"'Fraid not. We weren't quite expecting ya, and…"

Lorne help up a hand. "I understand," he said, though the words lacked complete sincerity. Spike could tell he was annoyed. "I suppose I'll have to head out later and pick up the necessities this place lacks."

It would be bad form, Spike decided, to ask how Lorne was feeding his cocktail habit at the old apartment since he apparently brought nothing in the way of potables with him in the scores of boxes Spike had helped lug up the stairs. "How are you settling in?" he asked.

"Well, it's not the Ritz-Carlton, but it's home."

"There'll be cable and all for you in the next day or two," Spike offered, hoping he'd remember to get Angel to call and make the arrangements. Not like Spike could afford to pay the bills and all, now was it? He never really had gotten the hang of all that financial shite.

"Thanks," Lorne said, his spirits seeming considerably brightened.

"It's good to have you here," Spike offered. He hoped Lorne wasn't feeling ignored, what with all the goings on the last several hours or so.

Looked like maybe he had. "Appreciate the sentiment." Yes, that was sarcasm in Lorne's voice.

"Mean it, y'know. It's just been a whole lot of crazy around here. Between Bit showing up with Red's ex-mutt in tow and…" He let his voice trail off, not wanting to bore Lorne with a recitation of personal angst.

Guess he was understood, because Lorne raised his hand in that delicate way of his and said, "Say no more. Sounds like there really was a lot going on. And I can see that Angel is still not much of a hand at managing things."

"No, can't say he is, at that," Spike agreed, cracking a smile. Nothing like running down the old sire, even if he was fonder of the Poof then he'd been in the past.

"So," Lorne said after a moment, "when do I get to meet this sister of Buffy's? Any woman who makes me fade into the background has to be something else."

Just then a voice from behind him made him whirl around. Speak of the Niblet..."Hi." What was she doing here? Wasn't she supposed to be napping? Well, if she'd had bloody jet lag you sure as hell couldn't tell it now.

"You must be the Dawn I've heard so much about," Lorne offered with a cheerful grin. "Aren't you just the prettiest ball of energy?"

Spike worried a bit about that last remark, but Dawn didn't seem fazed at all. Would wonders never cease. "This is Lorne. He lives here, too."

"Someone around here has to have some fashion sense. So...are you going to be working for Angel now, too?"

Dawn turned to him with wide eyes and Spike felt his heart sink. How the hell was he going to break the news to Dawn? Unlike Buffy, he knew Niblet far too well to think she was going to be happy about the idea of being the bloody receptionist here. There went his hopes of repairing things. His Bit was never gonna like him again.

Thanks, Lorne.

Tbc…


	25. Chapter 25

Come Pouring Down Unified (Chapter Twenty-Five)

"You had better not be serious!" Dawn stood before Buffy, arms akimbo, hipshot, with eyes blazing.

Spike looked abashedly at his love, hoping she realized that he had tried to take the rap, when Dawn actually made that very point. "And don't even try to blame this on Spike because he already tried and I am so not buying it."

Buffy was mustering up her best 'huh?' face when Dawn cut her off at the pass. "Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about either." Curses. Foiled again. "I cannot be_lieve_ you thought you'd make me a receptionist! A receptionist? I've totally fought demons! I am not going to just sit in the office and answer phones and file stuff and make coffee!"

Dawn was yelling loud enough to wake the dead and Buffy winced. "You'd actually be the office manager," Buffy interposed, knowing even as she said the words that this was a lost cause. Why hadn't Spike left the explaining to her?

"Office manager? Yeah right. Just another name for 'coffee and doughnut girl'. Thanks, but no thanks. I want weapons."

Spike couldn't help but chuckle even though Buffy glared at him. Yeah, he remembered the unfortunate demise of Miss Kitty Fantastico, but that was his Bit. She was a Summers through and through. Still, he wasn't any more pleased than Buffy was at the idea of her risking her life. "You can go along on some of the cases, okay?" he offered, trying to compromise. "But there really does need to be someone extra smart and pleasant manning the phones and dealing with the clients and making sure the books are kept and all. And the pretty face doesn't hurt either."

Much to Buffy's shock (and relief), Spike's rather thick layer of soap seemed to have mollified her sister somewhat. Maybe Dawn was forgiving Spike after all…or maybe he just had charm that worked on everyone in spite of themselves. "Okay. But I still get to go with you and do the important stuff."

With a grateful sigh, Buffy replied. "Thank you. And hey, you get paid, you know."

"Ooh! So this is like my first real job. That is so cool! And I didn't even have to go to college."

"Yeah, well, you've got plenty of experience helping save the world. That's a better sort of education for this line o' work. We wouldn't have anybody else." When Dawn gave him a tentative smile, Spike fought back a grin that threatened to split his face. Best not to go overboard on things just yet, but he felt in his gut that things were gonna be fine. Bit was this close to being his little sister again, he just knew it.

Buffy sighed again. She could see already that Dawn was going to wind up in the line of fire more often than not. But she guessed she should have expected that – Dawn _was_ her sister, after all, and the Summers women were a stubborn bunch. Remembering her mother, she could just see her laughing at Buffy right now for thinking that she'd do any better keeping Dawn out of the fight than Joyce had Buffy. Because it wasn't just about being the Slayer… It was about an innate drive to fight for what was right. If someone else had been the Slayer…well, Buffy was pretty sure she would have still wound up doing something. After all, the career counselor _had_ suggested she had an aptitude for law enforcement.

And hey, she noticed that this whole mini-drama seemed to have brought Dawn closer to forgiving Spike. That was of the good. But if Dawn wanted weapons, Buffy was so keeping her away from the crossbow…especially when Willow was around.

"So…" Buffy piped up brightly, "Think you'd be up for a little shopping tomorrow? I'm pretty sure you're going to need some office wear."

As good as those leather pants had looked clinging to Willow's curves, Angel decided they looked even better on the floor next to his bed…and Willow looked better just as she was right now – naked beneath him, face glistening with sweat as he pounded into her.

And had he mentioned how much he enjoyed how lithe and flexible she was? She was every bit as skilled a lover as any he'd ever had…and then some.

"Angel!" Willow cried out as she came for the second time. Making love with him was like nothing she'd ever experienced and that was a fact. A moment later, he came inside her and she felt boneless and sated. He slid out of her and lay beside her as she let her legs stretch out on the bed. Remind her to thank the goddess for the yoga that kept her limber.

"I love you," Angel said, propping himself up on one elbow and brushing a lock of hair from Willow's forehead.

"I love you, too," she said softly, still basking in really neat afterglow. She smiled up at him. Gosh was he handsome. "You make me really happy."

Chuckling softly, he replied, "You make me really happy, too. Happier than I've ever been." He'd never been more sincere. There was something he hadn't had the chance to tell her before – her apparel having been too distracting – and he decided to share it now. "Dawn gave us her blessing."

"You talked to Dawn?" When? Because hadn't Dawn…?

Angel could tell what she was thinking. Willow's face was so expressive. "She told me she'd told you guys she was jet-lagged. Actually she came to see me. She wanted to make sure I was perfect enough to follow in Tara's footsteps."

She said what? Because… "Angel, I don't expect…" Angel put his finger to her lips, shushing her.

"I know. And that's what I told her: that I'm not dating Tara's girlfriend any more than you're dating Buffy's boyfriend. We've grown and changed and we're who we are today, not who we were then."

"What did she say?"

"She actually understood. I think you were right when you told me she'd grown up."

She was? "Yeah, I was."

"She even promised to leave my shampoo alone, so I think we'll get along just fine now."

Willow burst into a fit of giggles. Yep, Dawn had grown up. Now her boyfriend on the other hand… "Looks like we're just one big happy family."

Was she laughing at him? "So you'd like me just as much if I were bald for awhile?"

You know, she hadn't actually thought about that. She'd still _love_ him, of course, but… She reached up and ran her fingers through that soft, well-cared for hair of his. Okay, he had a point. It was pretty nice. "I'm glad she's leaving your hair stuff alone."

"How glad?" he asked, the feel of her fingers against his scalp surprisingly arousing.

She giggled again as she suddenly pushed him onto his back and straddled his chest. That glad, huh? It was a good thing they had nowhere else to be. As Willow leaned down and kissed him hungrily, he wondered if perhaps they should postpone the re-launch of the agency for a little while. Maybe a week…or a month…or two…

Helping her sister unpack, Buffy was thinking about how best to broach the subject of Giles. How exactly should she tell her sister that he was…

"So, you said you'd tell me what happened with Giles," Dawn said, at least solving the problem of how to start the conversation. If only she'd waited until Buffy had figured out how to continue it.

"I think we should sit down," Buffy suggested, high-fiving herself for at least buying a few seconds.

Leave it to Dawn to find a place on the bed at the speed of light. Great. Buffy followed suit, sitting next to her. She might have to wing it. Boy did she hope the not-thinking thing still worked for her. "It's…it's kind of hard to talk about," Buffy began. "I mean… it's Giles and I know you love him and so did I, but…"

"Did?" Dawn's eyes were wide and the beginnings of pain already darkened them. "I mean, I know I asked if I was supposed to hate him and you said yes, but… This is a lot more than you just being mad at him, isn't it? This is bad. Giles is bad." Somewhere in those eyes Buffy thought she saw that ancient thing Dawn had once been and she hated herself for bringing it forth, but lies and deception would be worse, even if they could keep Dawn a child for a little while longer.

"Yes, he is," she said, her voice soft but grave. "I don't know what happened to him, or why he did what he did but…" She took a deep breath. "There was a woman who worked for Angel, her name was Fred, and…"

"The girl from Texas? Willow told me she had a crush on her."

Okay, she hadn't realized Willow was so big with the sharing. But now it would help, so maybe it was a good thing. "Because of Giles, she's dead. And not just dead. Her soul…" It was hard to say, even for her. She could only imagine how Spike and Angel and even Willow felt. "Her soul was hollowed out of her, piece by piece, and destroyed by a god-king who took her body."

There were tears in Dawn's eyes. "But how did… I mean, Giles didn't…"

"Angel called him when it was happening, trying to find Willow. Giles lied. He said Willow was off in the astral plane. He let Angel think Willow wouldn't help."

"Willow didn't know." It wasn't a question and the tears had turned to steel. "But now… I mean, now she can…can't she?"

"There's nothing Willow can do. It's too late. Fred is gone. She's gone forever."

"Did you ask him why?" Dawn was pleading for something, anything, even as hope and belief crumbled to grey dust behind those eternal eyes.

"No," Buffy said. "There really isn't any 'why' that would make this okay, is there? It's not like..." Buffy knew she didn't need to say Willow's name for Dawn to understand. "Fred never did anything to him. He didn't even know her." Dawn nodded slowly and with meaning. "And you know," Buffy added, the words almost whispered, "I don't think he thinks he did anything wrong. It's like…what bothers him is that I'm mad at him – not that he let Fred die, not that he let everyone blame Willow…he's just…he's just…" Her voice trailed off into soundless grief.

"I hate him." The words were a curse and Buffy stared at Dawn's hands, knuckles white as they clenched into fists.

"Me, too," she said.

"I'll never forgive him, you know. Even if you do."

"I won't," Buffy said.

They were silent for a moment and then Buffy got up, distracting herself from the still-fresh pain of Giles's betrayal with more unpacking. Funny, this sort of looked… "Okay," she said, grateful beyond words for something trivial to complain about, "what are you doing with my skirt? And what the hell are these stains?"

"Good thing that liquor store is right down the block," Spike said as Lorne happily busied himself whipping up a cocktail.

"You said it, cupcake." Lorne stared with obvious joy at his creation. "No festive little umbrella, but it'll do in a pinch." He sighed dramatically and sipped his drink. "Ah."

It was good to see Lorne enjoying himself, even if it was just consuming some poofy drink.

"So, where do you think Angel and that adorable little witch of his are?" Spike raised an eyebrow in answer. "Again?" Lorne rolled his eyes. "I'd chalk it up to young love, but Angel's not exactly the freshest flower in the garden."

"Yeah, well, Red fancies him and anyway…"

"I know…I know. The vampire stamina thing. Believe me, I heard plenty about it at Caritas." Lorne's eyes got a faraway look. Spike knew how much he missed that nightclub of his.

"Yeah, well, I can't say it's a myth." He gave his words a bit of a cocky swagger, hoping to amuse his friend. It seemed to work as Lorne greeted his pronouncement with another good-humoured roll of the eyes.

A second or so later, they were no longer alone in the kitchen. "There'd better still be plenty of ice cream," Buffy warned lightly the moment she entered the room. Spike could tell by the look in her eyes that more had gone on in Dawn's room than talking about tomorrow's shopping trip, even if she was making a determined effort to smile.

The look on Dawn's face was an even worse approximation of cheer. "And some of it had so better be chocolate of some kind."

"Like the kind you got all over my skirt?"

"That was Andrew, not me."

"Andrew was wearing my skirt?" That was it. She was burning it at the first opportunity. Damn it. She'd really liked that skirt, too.

Dawn burst into a fit of giggles. "No. Are you kidding? His butt is way too big for your clothes. He just bumped into me with…"

Wait a minute. "What were you doing looking at that pantywaist's arse?" Spike was full of parental indignation now. Niblet had no business checking out anyone's body, let alone an oily little toady like Andrew.

Dawn however, was clearly thinking about something else. "I guess he's a bad guy now, too, huh? I mean he pretty much lives the Giles life and all, so…"

It was obvious she and Buffy had had 'the talk.' "'Fraid so, Bit," he said, using the old nickname without thinking.

She didn't seem to mind. "I'm really sorry about Fred," she said. "I mean it," she added, this time looking straight at Lorne.

"Thank you." Lorne's voice was choked, the way it always was when he spoke of Fred. That grief was going to live in a way that Fred never could – whole and true and forever…for all of them. Spike put his hand on Lorne's shoulder briefly; a comradely show of fellow-feeling.

The sound of more footsteps heralded the arrival of the last two members of the gang just before Angel and Willow came bouncing into the room. Well, Willow bounced, anyway. And hey…those were the leather pants Buffy had talked her into buying. Judging by her freshly showered appearance, the pants had been quite a success.

"Hey," Willow caroled as she and Angel made their entrance. She quickly noticed the somber mood and toned down the happy expression on her face.

"Buffy told me…about what happened with Fred. And what Giles did. I'm really sorry." A second later, Willow found herself wrapped in Dawn's arms. "I can't believe he lied about you."

That explained things. Tears were hard to fight back, even now. What happened to Fred… "Thanks, Dawnie," Willow said, hugging her in return.

They disentangled and Dawn surprised her by turning to Angel and saying, "I mean it, you know. I really think Giles sucks for this. I wish I'd known, because I would have…" What happened next stunned everyone – Dawn gave Angel a brief, awkward hug.

Spike was about to combust from jealousy, when Dawn made her way over to him and did the same. "I guess I pretty much forgive you," she whispered as she embraced him.

"What?" she asked ingenuously as Buffy stared open-mouthed. "Life's too… I mean, you can't stay mad at people forever. Unless they deserve it, which Spike doesn't, unlike…"

"Rupert Giles," Spike spat out, the words tasting foul on his tongue.

"Yeah," agreed Buffy, along with everyone else in the kitchen, including Lorne.

There was silence for a time as they all looked for a way out of the sadness they were feeling.

After another long moment, Willow remembered why she was here in the first place and rooted through one of the drawers, looking for… "Buffy, did you eat all the Doritos?" There'd been a _huge_ bag.

The sheepish expression on Buffy's face made the answer she gave superfluous. "I love Doritos."

"Fine. I'll buy more tomorrow." Willow rolled her eyes and decided to switch nutritional gears, heading for the fridge. No way Buffy had eaten the rest of the lox, right? She hadn't. Yay! So, pulling it out of the meat keeper, Willow started eating it straight out of the container; she'd eaten the last bagel yesterday. "Mmm…" she moaned. This was better than Doritos anyway.

There was something about the look on Willow's face as she ate that made Angel wish they were alone in the kitchen.

Unfortunately, not only were they not alone, but sounds from the lobby indicated they had yet more company.

"Is anybody here?"

Oz? What was he doing here again?

Judging by the expression on every face, it looked as if Willow wasn't the only one wondering what was going on. Happy she'd at least gotten to shower this time, she took Angel's hand and said, "We better go see what's up."

"Yeah," Dawn chimed in.

Following Willow and Angel as they walked out towards the front of the hotel, Buffy pondered what could be going on as she copied Willow and held Spike's hand, noticing that Dawn and Lorne were right behind them. 'Hail, hail, the gang's all here' seemed to be tonight's theme.

"Oz," Willow greeted as she saw him standing by the staircase.

"Hey. I was gonna start looking for you guys."

At that moment, Buffy noticed that Oz wasn't alone…and she also noticed his companion looked awfully familiar. "Don't I…?"

"Oh my God! You're the stick girl!"

"I kind of figured you two knew each other," Oz said.

Buffy groaned inwardly. It was the airhead from the other night. The one she and Spike had warned specifically to go home. What trouble had she gotten herself into this time?

Beside her, Spike didn't even bother to keep his groan to himself. "We haven't exactly been properly introduced, but yeah."

Oz seemed oddly okay with Spike's attitude, or maybe he was just the same old inscrutable Oz, either way, he simply made the introductions. "Vivian, this is Buffy. The blond guy is Spike. That's Willow, Angel, Dawn, and the other guy is…?"

"Lorne."

"Wicked costume," Vivian offered and Buffy refused to contain her next groan.

"Whatever," Lorne answered, rolling his eyes and sitting down on the couch with a clearly exasperated attitude.

"Vivian's got a problem."

"Just the one?" Spike stage-whispered. He knew the chit was too stupid to come in out of the rain. If he was right, this bint was their first client…and judging by her 'rent-a-goth' apparel, she couldn't pay them a farthing. Great. Shoulda let that greasy vamp eat first and dust later.

"All I did was try to warn people about what almost happened to me in the alley with that disappearing guy, okay? The Crystal Dungeon is about peace, not the weird stuff, and…"

"The Crystal Dungeon?" Willow chimed in. Oh goddess. What a name. Buffy and Spike had been so right about this one…she was lost without a locator spell and that was a fact.

"Yeah," Oz chimed in. "It's kind of a low-key, goth lite sort of place. I was there to check out this band that said they were gonna need a new guitarist and…"

"He totally saved me! Oh my god! The owner? He told me he was going to let me into the V.I.P. room but when I got there it was…"

"An all-you-can-eat vamp buffet?" Buffy finished. Her temples were already throbbing. This girl made Harmony look like Willow in the brains department.

"It was awful," she blubbered. "I still can't believe that there really are…vampires." The last word was spoken in a melodramatic whisper.

"Yeah, because almost getting drained by one wouldn't be enough to convince anybody," Spike muttered again; he was toying with the idea of showing his true face just for the ducks of it.

Blessedly, Oz decided to wrap up the explaining. "Turns out the owner was the sire of the vamp you guys dusted and when he heard Vivian talking…well, he blames her for what happened to his favorite childe and since he has her driver's license…"

"He has your driver's license?" Angel was finally heard from.

"They got her purse during the scuffle," Oz explained.

"Oh my god! I just realized…they have my ATM card! They could be emptying my bank account right now!"

There was a chorus of groans and Angel wondered if anyone could possibly be so clueless, but unlike Vivian, he had his priorities straight. There was an apparently organized vampire clan operating a club nearby to lure in unsuspecting victims and that had to be stopped. So despite his lack of sympathy for this particular girl, the agency now had its first mission.

"I guess she'll need to stay here while we…"

"I'll find her a room," Lorne offered, guiding her ahead of him. As they reached the stairs, Lorne turned around and winked at Spike. Guess she wouldn't be gettin' the Presidential Suite. Lorne was quite all right.

Angel waited until they were safely out of earshot before speaking. "I know, I know," he said as he caught the look on both Spike and Buffy's faces. "But the fact is that this is obviously a bad bunch of guys and we need to take 'em out."

"At least this gives us a chance to break in the team, right? And hey! I get to slay!" While this was at least cheering the group somewhat, Buffy knew she needed to find just the right incentive to get everyone fired up. "The sooner we get these guys dusted, the sooner Vivian's out of here."

That was the ticket. "I'll go look up the Crystal Dungeon online and see what I can find out about it," Dawn caroled. "I could even go there tomorrow night, dress all goth-y, check things out…"

"No!" Buffy said in a booming voice that drowned out the same word being spoken by Spike and Willow and Angel.

"Fine," she grumbled, stomping out of the room and heading for the office, muttering darkly about how people were probably going to die because her overprotective sister wouldn't let her save them.

So now it was just Willow and Angel, Spike and Buffy…and Oz.

"Thanks, guys," Oz said, breaking the silence that had almost formed.

"You should probably stay here, too," Buffy said before realizing…oh gosh. "I mean…"

"She's right," Angel said. "It's not safe for you out there. You're a werewolf and that makes you easier to track."

"Cool." Oz was silent for a second and then he asked, "Angel? Can we talk?"

Angel nodded and led Oz to a room in the back. It hadn't been cleaned or renovated yet, but it was private and that was what mattered.

"I know you and Willow…you're together and I respect that. I'm not gonna try anything."

Angel nodded again, not sure what to say, and to his surprise, Oz kept talking. "I'd like to help. And not to be around her, but because… I want to be part of this. I want to do more with my life than just music and meditation, you know?"

The wolf was sincere and that brought Angel up short. It was plain that Oz had let go. Maybe he hadn't moved on yet, but he would and… "Yeah. We can use your help."

Oz extended his hand and Angel shook it. They understood each other, respected each other. Angel had a feeling Oz would be a real asset. Maybe he could be in charge of keeping Dawn out of trouble.

The two men left the back room. The noise all seemed to be coming from the office now – everyone gathered around the computer as Dawn sought information about the club that served as the clan's base of operations.

Oz joined them first, Angel taking a moment to stand in the doorway, watching as everyone talked and cracked jokes and threw ideas around. Willow looked away from them for a moment, her eyes meeting his as she gave him a big smile…it grew even bigger when he joined her.

They were a team, he saw. Already, they were a team. This vampire clan, and all the foes that would follow, stood no chance.

And right now, right here, his arm around the love of his unlife, watching as Spike and Buffy expressed that same love for each other, Angel knew what it felt like to be perfectly, utterly, and completely happy.

The End


End file.
